Save Me
by Sly Severus
Summary: A year after the war, wounds remain fresh. Survivors struggle just to keep surviving. They're plagued with guilt, illness, and new prejudices. Harry always thought his life would get easier after the demise of Voldemort, but he was wrong. This story is not epilogue compliant.
1. Happy Anniversary, Ron

_Would you know my name_

_If I saw you in heaven?_

_Would you feel the same_

_If I saw you in heaven?_

_I must be strong and carry on_

_'Cause I know I don't belong here in heaven_

_Would you hold my hand_

_If I saw you in heaven?_

_Would you help me stand_

_If I saw you in heaven?_

_I'll find my way through night and day_

_'Cause I know I just can't stay here in heaven_

_Tears in Heaven ~ Eric Clapton_

Sitting alone in his tiny flat, Harry Potter poured himself another glass of Firewhisky. His third of the morning, but there was no one there to count. His eyes wandered to the calendar tacked to the wall, as if he needed a reminder of the date.

He raised his glass in the air and slurred the words, "This one's for you, Ron."

He slammed his empty glass on the table just as a faint pop alerted him to the presence of someone else in his flat. Just what he needed. Ignoring the glass, he drank directly from the bottle.

"You ever gonna learn to knock, Hermione?"

She sat down across from him, her eyes sad and tired. Her once bushy hair fell limp around her thin face. In just one year, Hermione aged ten. But the disapproving glare she shot his way was the same as it had been when they were eleven.

"Are you ever going to stop drinking?' she shot back. "It's not even ten in the morning and you're entirely sloshed."

"But I'm out of bed and dressed."

"I'd guess you haven't been to bed and you've been wearing those clothes for a week." Hermione shook her head. "This place is disgusting. When's the last time you cleaned anything? It's been a year, Harry, more than that since the war. You can't keep living like this."

"Can til my inheritance runs out. Then I'll just move into Sirius' place with Kreacher. Lots of great memories there."

"Or you could go back to work. You know Kingsley would hire you back."

"I don't want to go back, Hermione," he snapped, slamming the half-empty bottle down. "I'm not an Auror. I can't save people. I just bring death."

"That's not true, Harry."

"Sure it is. Just ask my parents, Sirius, Remus, Tonks, Fred or Ron. Oh wait, you can't. They're all dead."

Hermione took his hand, but he pulled away, glaring at her. Why couldn't she take a hint and just leave him alone? He didn't want to be one of her causes. He couldn't be saved. He didn't deserve to be.

"We fought a war," Hermione told him as if he might've forgotten. "You're not personally responsible for everyone who died in that war. Those people died so that you - all of us - could live. None of them would want you blaming yourself and drinking your life away."

"Ron didn't die in the war."

Hermione's eyes teared and he almost felt guilty for saying it, but what did she expect? If she didn't want to talk about Ron, she shouldn't have come that day of all days.

"He died a hero. He was trying to save us."

"He died a fool," Harry spat. "That curse was meant for me and everyone'd be better off if it hit me."

"No one knows, for sure, who that curse was meant for. Maybe you're right. Maybe Rodolphus Lestrange was aiming for you to avenge his fallen lord. Maybe he was aiming at Mrs. Weasley to take revenge for his dead wife. Or maybe he was trying to hit Ron from the start. He was psychotic. He was killed before we could ask him. It doesn't matter what Lestrange intended to do. Ron died. One year ago today."

"You think the date slipped my mind?"

"Of course not, but this is Ron's day. Don't you think we should honor him? Go to his grave? See his family? When's the last time you even saw the Weasleys?"

"Dunno." Harry shrugged. "It was either after Ginny accused me of wanting Ron dead so I could bed you or after she decided I was madly in love with Narcissa Malfoy. Can't remember which of those incidents caused her to walk out on me."

"Okay," Hermione sighed. "I know things didn't work out for you and Ginny. She was jealous of our friendship. She was mad that you defended the Malfoys instead of letting the whole lot of them go to Azkaban. And, yes, she turned your compassion for them into some twisted obsession with Narcissa. I'm sorry it happened, but this isn't about Ginny. The Weasleys are our family and they need us today. We need each other."

"They're not my family. I have no family."

"You have me."

"Only because you can't see a lost cause staring you in the face. Just go, Hermione. Go mourn Ron in your own way. Go to the cemetery. Cry with the Weasleys. I really don't care. Just don't expect me to go with you."

Hermione crossed her arms and stared at him. All the anger and frustration drained from her face. She just looked sad. A pang of guilt nagged at Harry, but he pushed it away. This wasn't his fault. It was her fault for being foolish enough to keep believing in him.

"The answer to your pain isn't at the bottom of that bottle," she said, gesturing as he raised the bottle to his lips. "And it won't be at the bottom of the next one either."

Throwing the empty bottle aside, he glared at her.

"Well, aren't you just full of wisdom today?" he snarled. "And why is that, Hermione? Cause your life is so perfect? Fine, I'm an alcoholic. You're a workaholic. Your life is no better than mine. Stop judging me." He slammed his hands on the table as if making an important point.

"I'm not judging you. I'm trying to help you."

"I don't want your help."

Tears flooded from her eyes and she looked away.

"You wouldn't be saying this if you weren't drunk."

"I'm always drunk."

"That's the problem!"

"It's not a problem for me."

Hermione shook her head, moved until she was standing behind Harry and then wrapped her arms around him. She rested her head on his shoulder and he could smell the familiar scent of her shampoo. Her tears trickled down his neck.

"I'm sorry," he said. He wasn't entirely sure what he was apologizing for, but it seemed important he say the words. As if two simple words could ease any of her pain.

Her grasp on him tightened.

"I miss him so much," she whispered.

"I miss him, too. Every day."

Hermione pulled away, stood up straight and wiped away her tears. She even managed a slight smile for him. Despite his best efforts, he couldn't return the gesture.

"Come with me," she said with a devastating glint of hope in her eyes. "Just to the cemetery. We don't have to go to the Weasleys. Ginny'll be there with Dean. We'll both feel out of place. But we can visit Ron together. We can do that much for him. Please, Harry."

Closing his eyes, Harry cursed to himself. The last place he wanted to be was a cemetery - surrounded by death. He wanted to be alone, in his flat, with his Firewhisky. But as he looked into Hermione's wide eyes, he knew she'd won.

"Okay," he agreed with a deep sigh. "Let's go."


	2. Secrets

_In our family portrait we look pretty happy_

_We look pretty normal, let's go back to that_

_In our family portrait we look pretty happy_

_Let's play pretend, act like it goes naturally_

_Family Portrait ~ Pink_

Pacing through the familiar halls of her home, Narcissa felt a tremor in her spine. Nothing had changed. The furniture, the portraits, most of which she'd selected herself, were all the same. Yet everything was different. Everywhere she looked, she was reminded of death and pain. For a year, her home had been a slaughter house, where she and her family were forced to watch the destruction, wondering if they would be the next to die. Some things couldn't be unseen or forgotten.

Despite the painful memories in the house, she had no desire to leave it. She survived the war with her husband and son. They took back what was rightfully theirs, Lucius' family home, and she'd never let them lose it again. After all, they'd be plagued by the nightmares no matter where they lived.

When she strolled into the sitting room, she found Lucius with his head buried in The Daily Prophet and a glass of wine in his hand. His hair hung flat and lifeless around his thin face. It never looked the same after he returned from Azkaban. Many things about her husband were forever changed by prison. At least, he'd conceded to shaving again after she'd complained about his scratchy whiskers.

Watching him glare at the paper, she suppressed a sigh. She also suppressed an urge to take the paper away and hit him with it.

"Why do you keep reading that?" she asked, sitting beside him on the sofa. "You know it's complete rubbish. That Rita Skeeter should be hanged. The last accurate thing she reported was the death of Grindelwald."

Looking away from the paper, he grinned at her. He never smiled anymore, not really, but she could still make him grin.

"I don't believe she reported on that," he said lightly. "Considering it happened before she was born."

"Then perhaps she's never given an accurate report."

"I doubt she has."

Sighing, Narcissa asked her daily question. In some ways, she as masochistic as Lucius. "Are we in there today?"

She and her family regularly appeared in the paper, despite the fact that they rarely went out, with the exception of Draco, and had done nothing news worthy since avoiding a prison sentence over a year ago. The Malfoys fell far and that would always be news. Her family's misery was always a good story for a slow news day.

"Briefly," he replied, throwing the paper aside and pulling her close to him. "The Weasley boy died a year ago today. We're named as the villainous family of the boy's late killer. There're only a few lines about us. Seems dear Rita's more interested in Potter today. Most of the article's about his reclusive behavior and damaged psyche."

Shaking her head, Narcissa laughed, but there was no humor in the sound. She rested her head against Lucius' chest. Despite the fact that it was only one in the afternoon, she was exhausted. Lucius ran his fingers through her hair and she cuddled closer.

Curled up in the safety of his arms, she could almost forget the nightmares that invaded their dreams and the regrets that consumed their waking hours. The only time she felt real peace was when he touched her. She hoped her touch had the same effect on him.

"You're falling asleep on me," he said, resting his head on hers.

"Mmm."

"Are you all right? You've been sleeping an awful lot lately."

Before she was forced to lie to her husband, Draco wandered into the room. His hair was rumpled and it was obvious he was just getting up. His eyes were red, but there was no way of knowing if it was caused by lack of sleep, a hangover or crying. With Draco, all three were equally likely.

He headed directly to the bar and poured himself a large glass of Lucius' most expensive wine. He turned to them as if he was about to speak, but Lucius beat him to it.

"Draco, it's one o'clock. You've been out of bed for less than half an hour. Do you really think that's appropriate?"

Draco looked longingly at the drink, but sat it, untouched, on the bar before taking a seat across from them. He looked tired and defeated. She wanted to hold him in her arms, making everything all right, but the days for that were long gone.

"Sorry, Father." Draco eyed the empty wine glass beside Lucius, but didn't comment on it.

"How did you sleep, sweetheart?" she asked, hoping to distract both her husband and son from the topic of alcohol.

"Fine," he replied, forcing a smile that was obviously for her benefit.

"He must've slept some," Lucius muttered. "He's been in bed half the day. It's like living with a vampire."

"Lucius." Her voice held a warning tone.

Why was he always antagonizing Draco? Their son already looked like a zombie. He really didn't need to be called a vampire. It was clear he was still suffering from the war - they all were. Did Lucius really think judgment was going to help their son?

"Sorry, Father," Draco repeated, his voice deadpan.

Lucius sighed. "No, I'm sorry." He squeezed Narcissa's shoulder as he spoke. "This is your home. You can do as you please."

Draco eyed the glass of wine.

"Drink it," Lucius replied, his voice was once again light, even encouraging, as if he realized how much his son needed that drink. She didn't approve, but wouldn't deny Draco anything. "That's what it's there for."

Once he had the glass in his hand, Draco's face became more animated and he moved with less of a slouch. His behavior brought tears to her eyes, but she blinked them away, hiding her face in the safety of Lucius' chest. She remembered a time when her son was confident without the assistance of alcohol. A time when he was happy - when they all were. A time long ago.

More alert after a few sips of his tonic, Draco studied her. His eyes revealed his concern and her stomach sank. Like Lucius, he was starting to see what she attempted to hide.

"Mother, are you okay?" he asked. "You look tired."

"I'm fine, dear." She forced a smile to accompany the lie. "I didn't sleep well last night. That's all. Actually, I think I'll head upstairs for a nap. I'm sure that's all I need."

She unravelled herself from Lucius' embrace and got to her feet. Dizziness hit her, but was able to hide it. After kissing both Lucius and Draco, she started a slow climb towards her bedroom.

Each step felt like a tiny mountain. The dizziness only increased as she forced herself onward. She closed her eyes and gripped the banister for support. Breathing deeply, she assured herself that she could do this. She'd had spells like this before and they always passed after a nap.

After what felt like hours, she collapsed on the large bed she shared with Lucius. Breathing heavily, she closed her eyes to block out the sparks flying around in her vision. This was the worst episode by far.

She felt wetness beneath her nose and raised her hand to her face. When she drew her hand away, it was covered in blood.

What was happening to her? And how was she going to keep it from effecting her already fragile husband and son?


	3. Keep Fighting

_No, you don't know what it's like_

_When nothing feels all right_

_You don't know what it's like_

_To be like me_

_To be hurt_

_To feel lost_

_To be left out in the dark_

_To be kicked when you're down_

_To feel like you've been pushed around_

_To be on the edge of breaking down_

_And no one's there to save you_

_No, you don't know what it's like_

_Welcome to my life_

_Welcome to My Life ~ Simple Plan_

Bouncing Teddy on her knee, Andromeda watched as the infant changed his hair color with each bounce. Red, green, blue, purple, pink. He'd grow into a rebel one day - just like his mother.

Tears prickled her eyes at the thought of her daughter. That stupid saying popped into her mind: _Time heals all wounds._ As if. Whoever dreamed that one up didn't lose their entire family to violence. And they sure as hell never had someone tell them their sister murdered their daughter.

A single tear slid down her face. Teddy stared at her with wide eyes, allowing his hair to return to his preferred shade of blue. He wiped the tear away and cocked his head to the side. He was so perceptive. The concern of her tiny grandson only made her want to cry more, but she pushed the tears back - for Teddy.

"Grandma's okay," she told him, forcing a smile.

She started to bounce him again and he laughed, his worry already forgotten. If only she could forget so easily.

Teddy was getting in a rhythm switching hair colors again when there was a knock at the door. His little head shot up and he looked towards the sound.

"That's right," she said with a laugh. "Someone's come to visit us. Let's go see who it is."

She cradled Teddy in her arms as she went to the door. He could walk, if she held his hand and guided him, but it was a slow process. Whoever was calling was unlikely to wait that long.

In the kitchen, she opened the door to revel her most common visitor.

"Harry."

"Hi, Andromeda," he replied, returning her smile before focusing on his godson. "And how's my Teddy bear?"

"'Arry," he shrieked, thrashing in her arms, trying to get to him.

"Whoa, little guy," Harry said, pulling him into his arms with ease. "Take it easy. You don't want to beat up Grandma, now do you?"

If Teddy understood the question, he didn't bother to answer it. He was busy trying to climb on Harry's shoulders so he could be carried around the house. Harry helped him up and started rushing through her home like a hippogriff with a sugar high.

Watching Harry's infinite energy when he was with Teddy reminded her how tired she was. She never expected to be a mother again. She never expected to be fulfilling that role in place of Dora.

She returned to her place on the sofa and closed her eyes, listening to the laughter that filled her home. Laughter that Dora, Remus and Ted should've been a part of.

A few minutes later, Harry plopped down beside her, out of breath. Teddy climbed off his shoulders and into his lap. He was asleep before either of them could say a word. Why couldn't he sleep like that when she wanted a nap?

As Harry watched his godson, she studied him. The first time she met him, he was injured and fleeing for his life. He'd looked better then. The man in front of her was a pale ghost of the boy she once met. He obviously hadn't bothered to comb his hair as it was unruly, even by his standards. The sparkle in his eyes had been replaced with a dull sadness. Even his clothes hung off him, revelling how much weight he'd lost. The scent of alcohol came off him in waves, but he was sober. While she was well-aware of his drinking problem, she'd never seen him drunk. Around Teddy, he was always sober.

"He fell asleep fast." The disappointment in Harry's voice was clear. He wanted to play and his little buddy was snoozing instead.

"He never does that for me," she muttered.

"Maybe you should owl me every time he needs a nap."

"He's not the one who needs to nap."

Harry smiled. "You're amazing with him, you know. He's lucky to have you."

"He's lucky to have you, too."

"Thanks for saying so." His voice was sad, as if her words somehow hurt him. He didn't realize how good he was for Teddy. He refused to admit that he was good for anyone.

"He loves you, Harry," she insisted. "No one makes him happier. Dora and Remus made the right choice making you his godfather."

"Thanks." This time he beamed, as if the mention of Teddy's dead parents made her words more sincere.

"How are you?" she asked, watching him closely. "Really. This can't be an easy time for you. I know the anniversary of your friend's death just passed."

"A lot of my friends are dead," he replied, refusing to look at her. "But if you mean Ron, the anniversary was last week. Hermione dragged me to the cemetery so we could bawl in front of a stone with his name on it. Very productive that was."

His harsh words felt like an attack, but she knew he didn't mean them that way. Like her, he was still hurting. She wanted to say something comforting, but could think of nothing. No words offered her comfort. She'd heard all the clichéd lines.

"How's Hermione?" she finally asked. "She hasn't been to see Teddy in ages."

"Annoying and judgmental. So the same as always."

"You don't mean that." She raised her eyebrows at him.

He sighed, "No, I don't. Not really. Hermione is my best friend. She's stuck with me though everything, even when I didn't deserve it. It's just sometimes I wish she'd just let me self-destruct in peace. I fulfilled the damn prophecy. What more do I have to do?"

As the adult in this conversation, Andromeda felt she should offer some words of wisdom or encouragement, but she didn't know any. She was no Albus Dumbledore. And in truth, she understood Harry's urge to self-destruct. If it wasn't for Teddy, she'd likely join him.

"Keep fighting," she suggested with shrug.

"I guess I just thought everything would be different when Voldemort was dead. I thought all the sacrifices would make sense and all the survivors would live happily ever after. What a childish fairy tale. Everyone I know is miserable, except maybe Rita Skeeter. She seems to be having a great time attacking those of us who didn't die. You'd think after a year, we'd stop being news."

Andromeda snorted. Just last week she'd found herself mentioned in Skeeter's article about Rodolphus Lestrange. The bitch had the audacity to call that monster her family. She'd nearly lodged a complaint with the paper, but stopped herself. There was not point. A friend told her The Daily Prophet received hundreds of complaints about Skeeter daily. They were all ignored. Skeeter sells, and that was the bottom line.

"I'm sorry," Harry said after a few minutes of silence. "I didn't come over here to whine. It just comes naturally to me these days."

"Don't apologize," she said. "It's nice to talk to someone who answers me in full sentences. Besides you're allowed to whine. After everything you've been through, you've earned the right."

"Thanks. Hey, maybe I'll use that line on Hermione the next time she lectures me about drinking."

Andromeda planned to tell him that she didn't approve of his drinking anymore than Hermione did, but Teddy stirred in his arms. Before she could say anything at all, Teddy was wide awake and trying to climb on Harry's shoulders again.

"Up," Teddy demanded when he couldn't reach his goal unassisted.

Laughing, Harry boosted him up and soon they were running through the house again. The sound of their laughter made her smile.


	4. You Don't Belong Here

_Put your life into their hands_

_Die for someone else_

_Now you're in the real world_

_Where pain and death are felt_

_The first blood shed does not seem real_

_Reality is what you feel_

_Dropping to your knees you pray_

_God won't make this go away_

_Left to Die ~ Death_

Upon opening his eyes, Draco wanted nothing more than to close them again. His head was pounding and his stomach was nauseous. The very familiar symptoms of too much alcohol the night before.

He could easily roll over and go back to sleep, but then the nightmares would come. They always came when he tried to sleep through a hangover. Horrible memories assaulted his senses. Dumbledore falling from the Astronomy Tower, dead before his body even left the building. A teacher being devoured by giant snake. Granger screaming in agony while he watched, doing nothing to stop it. Vince engulfed by flames.

Seeing no other option, he climbed out of bed. Glancing down, he saw that he was still wearing his clothes from the day before. Brilliant, he wouldn't even have to bother dressing. If he could just get his morning glass of wine without being chastised by his father, it would be a good day. It was sad how low his standards for a good day had become.

As he stumbled through the manor, he did his best to conceal his hangover, not knowing when he might bump into one or both of his parents. He didn't want to annoy his father or worry his mother. His inability to cope wasn't something he cared to share.

He stepped into the sitting room with nothing on his mind beyond his father's well-stocked bar. But the moment he entered the room, all thoughts of alcohol left him.

Lucius stood in the middle of the room, blood stains on his white shirt, with Narcissa's still body in his arms. His eyes were wide with terror. He appeared frozen in place - lost in his fear.

"Father?"

He looked in Draco's direction, but his eyes were blank. There was no way to know if he even recognized his son. He tightened his grip on Narcissa, as if Draco might be a threat to her. He didn't move or speak.

"Father," Draco tried again. He was beginning to shake and could sense his fear taking over. He had to get his mother help before he became as overwhelmed as his father. No matter the horrible things father and son had seen, nothing prepared them to see Narcissa like that.

"What happened?" he demanded when Lucius still failed to respond.

"I-I don't know." He blinked, staring at Draco as if he was out of focus. "We were just talking, not even arguing. She just fell into me. She's bleeding and I can't wake her." His voice was so strained and frightened that Draco hardly recognized it.

He moved closer, his eyes trained on his mother's unconscious form. She was so pale. Tears formed in his eyes, but he blinked them away. Reaching out, he touched his mother's limp hand.

"We have to take her to the hospital - to St. Mungos." Draco spoke slowly, looking at his father, silently pleading for him to snap out of it. He couldn't do this alone.

Their eyes met and recognition flashed in Lucius'. He nodded as his senses returned. He still looked terrified, but Draco saw his father in those eyes again.

Keeping his grip tight on Narcissa, Lucius help out a hand. "Come, we'll Apparate together." His voice sounded strong again.

Without hesitation, Draco took his father's hand and gladly allowed him to take control of the situation. There were no words for the relief he felt when Lucius recovered from his shock. On his own, Draco knew, he was useless.

When their hands touched, he was instantly reminded of better times. Times when his tiny hand was engulfed by this father's and there was no problem Daddy couldn't fix. A time before the Dark Lord and nightly nightmares. A time when his mother was beautiful and strong, not crumpled and bleeding.

The world swirled around them as Lucius Apparated. The strong sensations associated with Apparation caused Draco's hangover symptoms to return with a vengeance. When they popped into a secluded hall at St. Mungos, he was clutching his stomach, hoping not to vomit.

Lucius hurried down the corridor without taking notice of Draco's discomfort. In that moment, his only thoughts were for Narcissa. Once his nausea passed enough for him to move, Draco hurried after his father.

A woman was headed in their direction and Draco blinked a couple of times to be sure he was seeing her properly. Maybe he was still slightly drunk. The woman - or possibly the ghost - was Dolores Umbridge. Her trademark pink bow was missing, but there was no mistaking her toad-like face. They were approaching a woman who'd supposedly died in Azkaban.

"Dolores?" Lucius said, stopping short in front of the woman.

"No, my sister is dead, Mr. Malfoy, as I'm sure you're aware." Even the voice was the same. "I'm Sylvia Umbridge, chief of staff here. This is my hospital."

She stared at them coldly, showing no interest in Narcissa whatsoever. If anything, she looked bored. Unlike her sister, Sylvia Umbridge clearly wasn't one to fake sweetness or even civility. Her bitchiness was out in the open for everyone to see.

"Please," Lucius said, a tone of pleading in his voice that Draco had never heard before. "My wife."

"Mr. Malfoy, perhaps you're still under the impression that I'm my sister, but I assure you, I'm not. I never approved of the company Dolores kept and I wasn't surprised when she came to an unfortunate end. As for me, I don't cater to Death Eaters, not even the absurdly wealthy variety. Nor does my hospital."

Draco felt as though he'd been slapped. Umbridge's attitude towards his family was common enough, but she was a Healer. Was she honestly saying that his mother wasn't worth helping? Beside him, Draco could feel his father trembling, but he didn't know if it was caused by fear or rage.

"My wife is not and never has been a Death Eater," he said tightly. "This is a hospital and she needs help. You can't just send her away."

The new Umbridge smiled for the first time, which reminded Draco of the insane grin Bellatrix revealed before going in for the kill. He knew they were dealing with a woman who liked to inflict pain. And his mother's health was in her hands.

"Actually, Mr. Malfoy, I can. As I've told you, this is my hospital. I can do as I please. You can, of course, lodge a complaint, but it's highly unlikely anyone cares what you have to say anymore. Your whole family should be in Azkaban. Why that Potter boy vouched for you, I'll never know. Must've been a little messed up after the war."

"Please," Lucius whispered.

"Please?" she spat, laughing. "Is the Great Lucius Malfoy going to beg? Going to throw all that pride and arrogance away? And for what? Her?" She sneered at Narcissa. "Oh, how the mighty have fallen. This really is priceless."

"If you want me on my knees, I'll do it."

"Don't bother. We don't treat Azkaban prisoners here, and as far as I'm concerned that's what she is."

Draco and Lucius stared. Draco felt himself trembling and his throat tightened as tears threatened to flow. His mother could be dying. She'd been unconscious for so long.

"Stop gawking at me and get out of my hospital," Umbridge snarled. "You don't belong here."

"Excuse me," a young voice interrupted. A voice Draco would recognize anywhere.


	5. Help Her

_And then a hero comes along_

_With the strength to carry on_

_And you cast your fears aside_

_And you know you can survive_

_So when you feel like hope is gone_

_Look inside you and be strong_

_And you'll finally see the truth_

_That a hero lies in you_

_It's a long, road_

_When you face the world alone_

_No one reaches out a hand_

_For you to hold_

_You can find love_

_If you search within yourself_

_And the emptiness you felt_

_Will disappear_

_Hero ~ Mariah Carey_

Hermione paced around the small flat she shared with Susan Bones, sipping tea and batting away tears. Every few seconds Crookshanks appeared and tackled her feet as if this were all for his entertainment. Hermione couldn't even be bothered to scold the cat. Not that it'd do any good, it never did.

She sat her empty cup on the kitchen counter and glanced towards the clock. Only ten thirty. An entire empty day lay in front of her. Why the hell did she take so much time off for the anniversary? She had no idea what to do with herself.

Sighing, she knew what she had to do. There was no way she was going to spend the whole week sitting at home driving herself crazy, remembering Ron and the way things used to be.

Without changing out of her baggy sweats and jumper, she Apparated to the staff room of St. Mungos. The cozy room was empty, except for a young red-head, reading a file while drinking her mid-morning tea.

"Hey, Susan," she said, sitting in the comfy chair opposite her friend.

"Morning, Hermione. I'd have woken you before I left, if I'd known you'd come in just to say good morning. You remember you're on vacation, right?" Susan didn't even look up from her file as she spoke.

"I didn't say good morning."

Susan sat the file aside and shook her head. "What are you doing here, Hermione?"

Resting her head against the back of the chair, she closed her eyes. Returning to work early was the best course of action for her sanity, but it might have went smoother if Susan wasn't the first person she saw. She loved her friend dearly, but there were many things about Hermione that Susan just didn't understand.

"Did you miss Toadface that much?" Susan persisted.

"Umbridge two? Yeah, that's it. No one's threatened to sack me in days and I just feel so empty inside."

"Seriously, Hermione, what gives? You should be home reading a novel, playing with Crookshanks, visiting Harry."

"The only thing Harry's interested in spending time with is a bottle of Firewhisky. I told you what he was like on the anniversary. I practically had to beg him to go to the cemetery. Ron was his best friend, for Merlin's sake. I just didn't feel like another row with him today."

"So you come to work on your vacation?" Susan crossed her arms and glared.

"It was either that or think about Ron all day." She threw her hands up in the air. "When I'm here, I'm busy. I have patients to take care of, you to talk to, Toadface to battle. I don't have time to think about Ron being gone."

"Hmm…I wonder if vacation days are transferable. I could use some extra snuggle time with Seamus."

Hermione snorted. "What do you think? Toadface is in charge of vacation days."

"That bitch is in charge of everything," Susan muttered. "Anyway, I still think you should make use of this time yourself. Do something fun. Relax for a change."

"Do what? I don't have a boyfriend - not anymore."

"It's been a year, Hermione." Susan's voice turned soft and serious. "You could have a boyfriend, if you wanted one. You're smart and beautiful."

"Well, I don't want one," she snapped, cutting Susan off.

"You can't live in memories forever. Eventually, you have to move on. That's what Ron would want."

Tears stung her eyes and she forced them away. Damn Susan for always doing this to her. She clutched the arms of the chair so tightly her hands turned white.

"Stop talking about this," she demanded her voice ice cold. "You have no right. Seamus isn't dead. You've no idea what it's like to lose a lover. You can't judge me."

"I'm not judging you." Susan looked shocked and hurt, but Hermione ignored it. "I'm your friend, Hermione. I want to see you happy and living a real life. Just like you want for Harry."

"I'm done talking about this." Hermione got to her feet and started towards the door. "I came here to work and that's what I'm going to do."

"Wait, Her-"

Hermione cut her friend off by stepping into the hall and closing the door behind her. As she leaned against the door, taking deep breaths, tears threatened to erupt. The thought of replacing Ron made her sick. Susan had no idea what she was talking about.

Shaking her head, Hermione forced Susan's words from her mind. They were meaningless. Susan was trying to help, but she didn't understand so her advice was moot. Nothing to get upset about. She shouldn't have stormed off though. She'd have to apologize later.

As her breathing returned to normal and her anger dissipated, she pushed herself away from the door. That was enough self-indulgence; she was there to work. Unfortunately, before she could get back to work she had to find Toadface and tell her she cutting her vacation short. With a deep sigh, she started down the hall in search of her boss.

She was on a different floor of the hospital when she finally spotted the unpleasant woman. As she drew nearer, she saw that Toadface wasn't alone. She was addressing a small, unfortunate group. A group of blondes.

Hermione stopped dead, her mouth slightly agape. The Malfoys. She hadn't seen any of them since their trial. Their unexpected appearance caused vivid flashbacks of the night she'd been in their home.

Searing pain.

Vicious taunts.

Greyback.

She shivered at the memories, and then scolded herself. A lot had happened since that night. They'd turned away from Voldemort - even Lucius. Harry defended them, saved them from Azkaban, and she supported his decision. She even went with him to the trial when both Ron and Ginny refused. She put that night behind her the day of the trial, and she wasn't going to let it resurface now.

She started towards the group with the intention of announcing her return and leaving them to their conversation, but as she got closer, she recognized something was wrong. Narcissa was in Lucius' arms and appeared to be unconscious. Both Lucius and Draco looked horrified. What hell was Toadface unleashing this time? Why was no one seeing to Narcissa?

A few steps closer and she could hear their words.

"Stop gawking at me and get out of my hospital. You don't belong here," Toadface said to them, her voice dripping with cruelty.

Hermione was astounded. She was trying to throw them out of a hospital when Narcissa so clearly needed help. She was well-aware of Toadface's cruelty. She knew the Malfoys were shunned by much of the wizarding world for their involvement in the war, despite their desertion. But this was madness. You don't turn an unconscious woman away from a hospital, no matter what you think of her, no matter how big of a bitch you are.

"Excuse me," she said, stepping forward and glaring at Toadface, "but that's just not true. Mrs. Malfoy obviously needs medical assistance and as this is a hospital, this is exactly where she and her family belong."

Draco looked at her with a glint of hope in his eyes. The expression was foreign on his once cocky face. Hermione looked away from him to focus her stare on Toadface.

"Miss. Granger," she replied icily, "sticking your nose where it doesn't belong as always. I recall that you're on vacation. What are you even doing here? Something you misunderstand about the concept of a vacation. You're not supposed to come to work."

"I came back early. Now, about Mrs. Malfoy-"

"As I've already explained," she interrupted, "my hospital won't be treating Mrs Malfoy. We don't tend to Death Eaters in Azkaban, nor do we treat those who escaped punishment. Even those who were defended by your best mate, Potter. If Mrs. Malfoy was in Azkaban, where she belongs, she'd be left to die. As far as I'm concerned, that's how it should be."

Hermione heard Lucius gasp and silently pleaded that he'd have the sense to keep his mouth shut. He had every right to rip into Toadface, maybe even cast an Unforgivable Curse, but it wouldn't get Narcissa help any faster. She was relieved when both he and Draco remained silent.

"Well, fortunately, it's not up to you," Hermione replied. She had no idea where she was going with this. Toadface was in charge, but surely she wasn't authorized to do this. "Mr. Malfoy, if you'll just follow me, I'll get you settled in a room."

She started down the hall with the Malfoys on her heels. She'd been insubordinate before, but this was a new level, even for her. Well, if she got sacked, Harry'd probably let her move into Sirius' old house.

"You dare to disobey your superior," Toadface yelled after her.

"Lady," Hermione said over her shoulder, "you're nobody's superior."

"If you insist on wasting resources on them, you won't be paid for it. In fact, you won't be paid for the rest of your vacation."

This time she didn't even bother to turn around. She spotted a vacant exam room and ushered the Malfoys inside. She heard Toadface stomping down the hall, and was relieved the row was over - for now."

"You can settle her on the bed," she said to Lucius. "Sorry about her. She's always cruel, but that was a new extreme."

"Thank you," Draco said, his voice cracking.

Lucius looked up from fussing over Narcissa. "Yes, thank you, Miss. Granger."

"I'm just glad I was here," she replied. "Try to make her comfortable. I'll grab a pureblood Healer for you. It'll just be a minute." She decided the Malfoys had had enough stress. They could, at least, have a Healer they'd be comfortable with.

As she turned to leave, Lucius' voice stopped her.

"Please, stay. Help her."

Hermione faced him, unsure if her surprise was plastered all over her face or not. She'd offered to get someone of his stature, and he wanted her? This was not the Lucius Malfoy she knew.

"Um," she began elegantly. "Okay, yeah, sure. If you're certain you wouldn't prefer someone else."

"I'm certain. I'd appreciate it you stayed, Miss. Granger." Reluctantly, he took a few steps back to allow her access to his wife.

"How long has she been unconscious?" she asked, allowing her instincts as a Healer to take over, forgetting the strangeness of the situation.

"I don't know," he replied. "We were talking and she just fainted. I don't know how long I held her before Draco came in. I don't know how long we argued with Umbridge. It's been awhile. Is that bad?" The fear in his voice was so raw it gave her chills.

"Not necessarily," she assured him, focusing on Narcissa. She gently wiped away the dried blood beneath her nose. "She stopped bleeding on her own. That's a good sign. I'm going to try to wake her now. Then we'll see what we can find out."

Smelling salts were a Muggle approach to this issue, but one Hermione was fond of. She found them less abrasive then anything she'd learned in the wizarding world. Although, considering how long Narcissa had been out, there was little chance they'd work. Still she was hesitant to try anything more drastic.

Holding her wand near Narcissa's nose, she conjured the strong scents, hoping they'd trigger a response. To her surprise, Narcissa reacted almost instantly. She groaned softly. Lucius and Draco rushed to her side as Hermione stepped back.

Her eyes fluttered open and she smiled faintly when she saw her family leaning over her.

"Lucy, Draco."

"Welcome back, beautiful," Lucius said before kissing her on the cheek.


	6. Chaotic Coincidence

_Broken by life's deceptions_

_Mended by one who saw through, ohh_

_Fall to the ground before you_

_My judgment came too late_

_I don't deserve forgiveness, ohh_

_My sins are far too great_

_New Moon ~Enchant_

As she stared at her husband and son, Narcissa became confused. Her family was disheveled and upset, but she didn't know why. Glancing around the room, she recognized the sterile cleanliness of a hospital room.

Standing back from Lucius and Draco was a young girl, watching her with kind troubled eyes. The girl was familiar, but in her confused state, Narcissa couldn't remember her name or how she knew her.

"What happened?" she finally asked Lucius when it became clear she couldn't fit the pieces together on her own.

He was sitting on the side of her bed and holding her hand. She felt tired, weak, and wanted nothing more than to curl into his arms and sleep, but she didn't move. She wasn't even sure she had the energy to move. Instead, she waited quietly for an explanation.

"You fainted," he told her. "I couldn't wake you."

For weeks, she'd ignored dizzy spells and more recently nosebleeds. Was this the inevitable result? So much for sparing Lucius and Draco worry. They both looked terrified.

Her eyes finally found the bloodstains on Lucius' shirt.

"Mine?" she asked, motioning towards the stains.

"Yes, but you're okay now. Everything's okay now." There was a hint of desperation in his voice, indicating he was trying to convince himself as much as her.

"Actually, Mr. Malfoy," the girl said, stepping forward. "I still need to examine your wife to make certain of that. Mrs. Malfoy was unconscious for a substantial amount of time, and it's important we find out why."

That voice. It was even more familiar than the face, but who was she?

"Yes, of course," Lucius replied.

"It'd be best if you both waited outside," she addressed Lucius and Draco. "It shouldn't be long."

A look of panic crossed Draco's face, but Lucius simply gave her hand an encouraging squeeze and got to his feet. Draco didn't move. He stared at her as if afraid she'd disappear before his eyes.

"Go ahead, sweetheart," she told him, forcing a smile. "I'll be fine. Just a few more minutes and we can all go home."

Draco nodded and followed behind his father.

Lucius stopped at the door, turning back. "Thank you, Miss. Granger," he said before leading Draco out.

Granger? Potter's Granger? Narcissa stared at the girl and was forced to conclude it was true. How had she ever forgotten that girl? What manner of insanity was this? She stood by while this child was tortured in her home. She's said nothing when Bella tried to prostitute her to Greyback. Now the girl was acting as her Healer? What had the child done to deserve this?

"Mrs. Malfoy?" Granger stood over her without a trace of hatred on her face. "Are you feeling all right? You've gone so pale. Are you feeling weak or dizzy, anything?"

"I'm fine. Just overwhelmed, I suppose."

Granger smiled warmly. "No wonder. You're family was very worried about you. You've been through a lot today."

When no words came to mind, Narcissa looked away, ashamed. She vaguely remembered this girl being at her trial with Potter, but that was a far cry from caring for her. How was she doing this?

"Mrs. Malfoy, is it me?" she asked, watching her closely. "I'm sure there's a pureblood Healer on call, if you prefer. It's really no problem."

"No," she said quickly, her shame increasing. This child was worried about her comfort, after the way she'd treated her. "Nothing like that. Please, stay. I'm really just overwhelmed. I didn't expect to wake up in the hospital today."

"Well, let's see if we can figure out why that happened. You feel up to answering some questions?"

"Sure," she replied, trying to match Granger's light tone and failing miserably.

"Do you remember what you were doing before you fainted?"

"Talking to Lucius, I think. That's the last thing I remember."

"Anything upsetting or emotional?"

She shook her head. She couldn't even remember what they were talking about.

"Did you feel ill before you fainted? Weakness? Dizziness? Nausea?"

"I don't think so."

"What about before today? Any of those symptoms? Any fainting spells or nosebleeds?"

"This is the first time I've fainted."

"The rest?" She raised her eyebrows.

"Yes. For awhile now."

"I'm surprised your husband didn't mention that."

"He doesn't know. Neither does Draco. I didn't want them to worry. Guess that didn't work out so well."

"They obviously love you very much." Granger smiled again as if this was the most natural conversation in the world. "I want to run some tests on you, just basic spells. Lay back and relax. You'll hardly notice I'm here."

Narcissa didn't relax. Instead, she watched Granger as she moved around her, checking Merlin knew what. The girl was focused on her work and unaware that she was being studied. Sometimes she'd frown slightly or shake her head like she'd gotten an unexpected result. Narcissa waited for some sign that this girl hated her for what she'd done, but none ever came. It was almost like Granger forgave her, but that was impossible. What she'd done was unforgivable.

"Well," Granger said, stepping back and staring at her, "according to all the common tests you're perfectly healthy."

For the first time, Narcissa managed a genuine smile. "I guess this was just random then."

"It seems that way," Granger agreed, still watching her. "I'm just not sure. A random fainting incident rarely involves bleeding and you were unresponsive for a long time. Not to mention, you're had previous symptoms. There's one other thing I'd like to look into, if you'll bare with me, just to be safe. Are you okay to wait here a few minutes?"

"Yes, that's fine."

"Perfect. I'll send your family back in to keep you company. They're probably climbing the walls out there anyway. It shouldn't be too long."

Granger was out of the room less than a minute before Lucius and Draco were back. Their time in the waiting room did nothing for their nerves. She hadn't seen them so frightened since the Dark Lord was sharing their home. They settled on either side of her, cocooning her with their love.

"What happened?" Lucius asked, pulling her into his arms. "Granger ran off without explaining a thing."

"I'm perfectly healthy," she told him. "She wants to check one more thing and then we can go home."

She reached out and pulled Draco closer to her. His body was tense and she felt guilty for scaring him so badly.

"Draco, I'm fine. Really, sweetheart. All the basic tests were normal and I'm sure this one will be too. I'm sorry, I scared you."

"Don't apologize. None of this is your fault. I'm sure Granger is just being thorough, remnants of her know-it-all youth."

"Speaking of Miss. Granger, how exactly did she become my Healer? I can't imagine she was begging for the job."

"Chaotic coincidence," Lucius replied drily.

He didn't elaborate.


	7. It's all in the Blood

_All I have is one last chance_

_I won't turn my back on you_

_Take my hand, drag me down_

_If you fall then I will too_

_And I can't save what's left of you_

_Sing something new_

_I have nothing left_

_I can't face the dark without you_

_There's nothing left to lose_

_The fight never ends_

_I can't face the dark without you_

_Without You ~ Breaking Benjamin_

Draco was able to fake ease as the conversation steered away from his mother's collapse and focused on more mundane topics. He nodded, even commented from time to time, but his mind was a million miles away. No matter what she said, something caused his mother's episode. There was so much blood.

When Hermione returned, his worst fears were confirmed before she even opened her mouth. Her entire manner changed. She appeared tired and beaten, looking at everything in the room except for him or his parents. A squat, elderly witch with dead eyes stood beside her. Unlike Hermione, she seemed to believe his family was a sideshow, staring at them as if waiting for a trick.

"This is Madame Bulstrode," Hermione said, still refusing eye contact. "She's our most senior Healer on staff. I've discussed my suspicions with her and she agrees they're worth exploring. I'm going to let her explain this to you as I'm out of league with this."

Staring at his former classmate, Draco willed her to say something less bleak. Since when was it possible for Hermione Granger to be out of her league with anything? She knew everything, always had. What could make her so unsure of herself?

"Miss. Granger has explained your symptoms to me, Mrs. Malfoy," Bulstrode spoke in a bored voice and focused on Narcissa as if Draco and Lucius weren't even there. "Normally, I'd call this unusual and send you home with a follow-up appointment. However, due to your heritage, I'm inclined to agree with Miss. Granger that further investigation is wise."

"Her heritage?" Lucius asked.

Draco cringed as he saw his father's grip tighten protectively on his mother. There was an edge in his voice, indicating that he was expecting trouble.

"Yes, Mr. Malfoy." There was no change in Bulstrodes's voice and she looked toward Lucius with disinterest. "Your family's blood-status is common knowledge. I understand that's the way you like it. As a pureblood, you're wife is at risk for Cruremus."

Draco stared blankly. His knowledge of medicine was very limited, but even he knew this was unusual. Blood-status had nothing to do with health. After being shunned for over a year because of his family's long-standing beliefs on the topic, he'd begun to suspect blood-status had very little to do with anything.

"And that is?" Lucius didn't attempt to hide his impatience.

"Cruremus is a rare blood disease. In the simplest possible terms, a person's blood dies. There are certain similarities to leukemia, but many aspects differ. Mrs. Malfoy's blood-status is relevant because there have been four known cases of Cruremus in this hospital in the last hundred years, all effecting purebloods. This disease has never been seen in the Muggle world nor is it known to effect Muggle-Born or half-blood wizards. The fact that a Healer as young as Miss. Granger would even be aware of it is remarkable. Must be all the medical texts she devours."

Despite the fear coursing through him, Draco couldn't stop himself from smirking. So much had changed, but some things would always be the same. It was almost comforting.

"At any rate, I think, as does Miss. Granger that it would be prudent to test for Cruremus. However, we will need you to sign a consent form, Mrs. Malfoy."

"Why?" Lucius demanded. "What's so special about this test?"

"It's slightly more abrasive than most wizarding tests and cannot be performed with magic. In order to test for this disease, we need a blood sample. We need to puncture your wife's skin to draw blood. It's really very simple, common in the Muggle world. It usually stings a bit, but that's the worst of it."

Draco felt queasy and saw his father pale.

"You want to jab my wife with sharp objects?"

"Lucius, stop," Narcissa interrupted. "It's fine. I'll sign whatever you need."

"You don't have to agree to this," Lucius insisted, moving so his body shielding her from everyone but Draco.

Narcissa smiled. "Really, it's all right. If I don't take this test, both you and Draco will worry. One poke and I can prove that I'm fine. I love you both, but the needle sounds less painful than your constant hovering. Please, let them do their job so we can go home."

"There's really nothing to be concerned about," Hermione spoke for the first time since introducing them to Bulstrode. Draco nearly forgot she was there. "I had it done a few times when I was a child. Muggles use it to check for a lot of things. It's just a pinch. I promise, she'll be fine, Mr. Malfoy."

Draco watched his father. He was looking between Narcissa and Hermione. Anyone could tell that he wanted to keep arguing, protect his wife from even the tiniest amount of pain, but he didn't. Instead, he nodded.

Bulstrode, who hadn't shown the slightest interest in their debate, handed Narcissa a sheet of parchment and a quill. She signed without reading it. Something that only added to Lucius' concerns.

Somehow Bulstrode managed to push her way between Lucius and Narcissa, leaving Lucius no alternative but to back away. Draco moved closer, trying to make up for his father's sudden absence. Narcissa squeezed his hand, but he didn't know if it was for her benefit or his.

With a flick of her wand, Bulstrode produced what looked like rubber rope.

"Mrs. Malfoy, lay your arm flat. Miss. Granger, I highly doubt you've done this before. Come watch."

Reluctantly, Hermione moved beside Bulstrode so she was between Lucius and Narcissa. She gave him an apologetic glance.

"I have to find a vein to insure we get enough blood," Bulstrode explained. "I'm going to tie this around your arm to make your veins more visible. Sorry, it will be tight and uncomfortable."

Narcissa cringed as the band was tightened. As pain flashed across her face, Draco took a deep breath, suppressing his urge to attack the woman who was trying to help.

"Make a fist," she ordered.

As Narcissa obeyed, Bulstrode started poking at her arm. When she was satisfied, she conjured an odd looking needle with a vial attached to the end. Without hesitation, she jammed the needle into Narcissa's flesh. Draco's stomach lurched and he looked away as the vial began to fill with his mother's blood. He closed his eyes to fight off a bout of sickness.

"All done," Bulstrode announced.

Draco glanced over just in time to see Bulstrode wave her wand over the puncture mark, healing it.

"Miss. Granger and I will test this and be back momentarily."

Without glancing back, Bulstrode left the room. Hermione trailed behind her at a slower pace. She smiled reassuringly at Narcissa before closing the door behind her.

"Did it hurt?" Draco asked.

Lucius returned to his spot on the bed, sliding his arm around Narcissa's shoulders.

"Not really."

After that they waited in silence, cuddled together on the hospital bed.

The two Healers returned quickly. Once again, Hermione was avoiding eye contact, causing Draco's fear to spike. Something was really wrong. She'd be bursting to tell them good news. That's just the way Hermione was.

"I'm sorry." It was Bulstrode who spoke and she didn't sound sorry at all. "The test confirmed Miss. Granger's original suspicion. Mrs. Malfoy, you have Cruremus."

"What do I do now?" Narcissa asked calmly.

"You'll need transfusions, which are also uncommon in our world."

"What does that mean?" Lucius asked, his voice tired.

"During a transfusion blood is transferred from one person to another. The healthy blood fights the diseased blood."

"If she needs more blood, why can't she just take Blood Replenishing Potion?"

"That would produce more diseased blood. Your wife doesn't simply need blood, she needs healthy blood."

"Then take mine," Lucius replied.

"It's not that simple, Mr. Malfoy. Cruremus only responds to blood with certain DNA similarities. The blood must come from a blood-relative, and even then there's no guarantee it'll be a close enough match to successfully fight Cruremus."

"I'm her son," Draco spoke up. "Wouldn't I match?"

"There's no way of knowing without testing you. We'd have to draw blood, like we did with your mother. We can do that now, if you're willing."

"Of course, I'm willing."

He moved from the bed to a nearby chair. When presented with the consent form, he also signed without reading it. He rolled up the sleeve of his right arm, hoping she wouldn't ask for his left, wanting to keep the Mark hidden from view.

"Miss. Granger, would like to give it a go?"

Draco almost groaned aloud. Granger coming at him with a needle. Not the most comforting thought.

"Perhaps not," Bulstrode went on before Hermione could respond. "I forgot you two were classmates. Mr. Malfoy might not be the best test subject for you."

Both Draco and Hermione sighed in relief.

Draco rested his head against the back of the chair and closed his eyes as he obeyed Bulstrode's instructions. The band around his arm was uncomfortable, but not unbearable. He didn't even feel the needle. When Bulstrode announced that they were done, he was surprised.

Again, Bulstrode led Hermione from the room, leaving Draco alone with his parents. He didn't bother to move back to the bed. The Healers would be back soon and he'd find out how to give his mother a transfusion.

"Thank you, sweetheart," Narcissa said.

"Did you think I'd say no?" he teased. "I love you."

"I love you too, baby."

Only a couple of minutes passed before the Healers returned for the second time. Draco couldn't bring himself to look at Hermione.

"When can we do this?" he asked Bulstrode.

"We can't," she replied simply. "You're blood doesn't have the right genetic markers. Of course, you share your mother's DNA, but you're not a close enough match for the procedure."

"But she's my mother."

"Yes, but you inherit DNA from both parents. You were told there was no guarantee that you'd be a match."

Looking at the floor, Draco fought back tears. All those years, his parents told him how great his blood was, but they were wrong. When it really mattered, his blood was useless.

"Mrs. Malfoy, I believe you have a surviving sister? Siblings are often very close matches. You should contact your sister as soon as possible. We'll keep your blood sample on file for comparison."

The Healer's words caused Draco's throat to tighten. He wasn't a match. That meant his mother's only surviving blood-relative was Andromeda, an aunt he'd never met. His mother hadn't spoken to her since before he was born.

Narcissa looked to Hermione. "What happens if I don't have these transfusions?"

Silence filled the room. Hermione stared at the floor, unable or unwilling to answer.

"The disease will progress and you'll die," Bulstrode told her.


	8. Murderer

_Forgive, sounds good_

_Forget, I'm not sure I could_

_They say time heals everything_

_But I'm still waiting_

_I'm through with doubt_

_There's nothing left for me to figure out_

_I've paid a price_

_And I'll keep paying_

_I'm not ready to make nice_

_I'm not ready to back down_

_I'm still mad as hell and I don't have time_

_To go round and round and round_

_Not Ready to Make Nice ~ Dixie Chicks_

Andromeda smiled at the giggles of her grandson and his godfather as she sipped her morning tea. Something crashed to the floor in the living room, but she didn't even glance up. Having raised Nymphadora, she was used to broken glass.

She curled her legs beneath her at the kitchen table and flipped through the paper, something she rarely bothered to do. Teddy kept her busy and The Prophet published such ridiculous stories; it was hardly worth making time for.

A knock on the door caused her to toss the rag aside without disappointment. Whoever was at the door was bound to be more enlightening than the paper. However, it was early for callers.

"Did you ask Hermione over?" she called to Harry. She often joined him for visits with Teddy, but it'd been awhile.

"No," he replied.

Sighing, Andromeda approached the door. With The Daily Prophet still fresh in her mind, she briefly feared Rita Skeeter would be waiting on the other side, wanting to interview her about her murderous sister or even Harry. Neither of them had been mentioned in the morning edition. As it turned out, Skeeter would've been a welcome improvement over the actual visitor.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded, unable to keep her voice from trembling with rage. It was taking all her strength not to slam and lock the door.

"Please, I have to talk to you. I wouldn't have come otherwise."

She studied her brother-in-law without responding. The conceited, arrogant, boastful Lucius Malfoy. How far he'd fallen. The thought almost made her smile - almost. He looked entirely disheveled, but she was most surprised by his red-rimmed eyes. He'd been crying. Lucius Malfoy. She never thought it was possible.

"I have nothing to say to you," she said coldly.

"It's about Narcissa."

"I have nothing to say to her either."

She moved to shut the door, but Lucius blocked it with his foot. He continued to stare at her with a pleading look she never expected to see from him. It was hard to believe this was the same man she used to know. But despite his obvious turmoil, she felt no sympathy for him.

"Move your foot."

"Andromeda, please, hear me out."

"Why should I listen to anything you have to say?"

"Because we're family."

She laughed. She didn't intend to, but his words were so preposterous and he sounded so sincere saying them.

"Well, I'm guessing that's the first time you've ever admitted that aloud. But, as I'm sure you remember, I was disowned from that family long ago. I owe you nothing, Lucius, and that includes my time. Go away. Go home to your perfect little family, untouched by the war."

"How dare you?" Lucius' temper flared. "My family has been through hell because of that war."

"But you're alive," she snapped, "which is more than can be said for my family."

"I'm sorry."

"Of course you are because you want something from me."

He didn't deny it. Instead, he continued to stare at her with the look of a wounded child. She felt only distain for this man, but her curiosity was peeked. What could make Lucius so desperate?

With a sigh, she ignored her common sense, and stepped away from the door to let him in. He moved quickly as if afraid she might change her mind. Confusion crossed his face when he heard the laughter coming from within the house.

"Harry's here, playing with Teddy," she told him, although she was unsure why. She didn't owe him an explanation. "Teddy, my grandson. Harry's his godfather, not that you'd care about that."

Saying nothing, he looked around the room uncomfortably.

"Well," she snarled, "you managed to get yourself into my home, Lucius. Tell me what it is you want. What has humbled you so greatly that you'd associate with the likes of me?"

"Narcissa needs you."

"That's unfortunate for Narcissa."

"She's your sister."

"Not in any way that matters. And where is my loving sister? If she so desperately needs me, why didn't she come herself?"

"I'm sure she would have." He started wringing his hands. "I didn't give her the chance. I left the house this morning before she woke. I wasn't sure she could handle this."

"Handle me, you mean?" Her voice was rising and she worried Teddy would be frightened, but she couldn't keep her temper in check.

"To be fair, you've been less than kind."

"And when's the last time you or your wife showed me any kindness? Hell, when's the last time either of you even acknowledged my existence?"

"All right, our family could write the book on dysfunction, but you're still a part of it. Even if you both deny it, Narcissa is your sister."

"Fine, she's my sister. Bellatrix was my sister too and she murdered my only child."

"This isn't about Bellatrix," Lucius sighed, running his hands through his matted hair.

"What is it about?" she demanded. "You convinced me to let you in my house. You've been doing a lot of talking, but you've yet to tell me what you want."

"Narcissa's dying." His voice cracked.

Oh. She hadn't seen that coming, but it explained a lot. Despite his many faults, and her overall hatred of the man, Andromeda never doubted his love for her sister. He'd go to the ends of the Earth for her.

"I'm sorry," she said, unsure if she meant the words.

"She has a rare blood disease. She needs transfusions from a blood relation. Our son wasn't a close enough match. You're her only hope."

"Well, if she hadn't stood by Bellatrix while she was murdering our family, she'd have more options. So after all this, you want my blood?"

Andromeda was surprised she continued to sound so angry. She'd just learned that her baby sister was dying and was still consumed with only hate. Before that moment, she never realized just how much she blamed Narcissa for her loss.

"If your blood's a match, you can save her life. Without transfusions, she'll die."

Images of her own family passed in front of her eyes. Sneaking out at nights to meet Ted. Crying in his arms when she left home. Holding Dora for the first time and freaking out when she changed her hair color. Seeing her little Dora married and happy. She'd have no more memories of them because they were dead. And the man asking for her help supported their deaths.

"Then I suggest you go home and spend as much time with your wife as possible. I won't be giving her my blood or anything else."

"B-but she's your sister." Lucius looked near tears.

"Stop saying that," she yelled, not even thinking of Teddy. "I don't care. She never cared so why should I? I'm not going to be her blood bank, Lucius."

"Please." He fell to his knees. "You're the only chance she has. I'll do anything. Give you anything. Please, don't let her die."

"Give me my family and I'll give you yours," she said icily.

Lucius lowered his head, tears spilling down his cheeks. His pride was gone and she took an evil pleasure in that.

"Get up," she told him. "Begging won't change my mind. Stop wasting your time here. Go home to your wife - while you still have her."

Lucius awkwardly got to his feet, nearly falling backwards in the process. He looked to her, not even trying to hide his tears. She stared back, careful not to reveal any emotion.

"You'd really murder your own sister?"

"GET OUT!"

Wide eyed, Harry appeared in the doorway. He looked from Andromeda to Lucius. The expression on his face left no doubt that he'd heard the entire conversation. Well, she could hardly blame him. They weren't exactly keeping their voices down. At least, Teddy was too young to understand the harsh words uttered in his home.

"I think you better go, Mr. Malfoy," he said calmly, but there was a certain sadness in his voice, maybe a hint of pity.

Lucius hesitated, but finally turned to leave, looking defeated and broken.

"I'm sorry about your wife," Harry said just before the door closed behind Lucius.

Andromeda looked into the kind, confused eyes of a boy she'd grown to love and broke down in sobs. She felt Harry's arms wrap around her, attempting to comfort her.


	9. Intervention

_Every breath you take_

_Every move you make_

_Every bond you break_

_Every step you take_

_I'll be watching you_

_Every single day_

_Every word you say_

_Every game you play_

_Every night you stay_

_I'll be watching you_

_Every Breath You Take ~ The Police_

Clasping his arms around Andromeda, Harry led the crying woman to the living room, settling her on the sofa. As Andromeda sobbed into his chest, Harry looked to Teddy, wide-eyed in his crib. How many tears had that innocent child seen shed?

Awkwardly, Harry rubbed Andromeda's shoulders, attempting to comfort her. He had little experience with giving or receiving comfort and had no idea how to help. Words eluded him completely. He had vast experience with unique situations, but this was far beyond him.

"That bastard," Andromeda finally spoke, pulling out of Harry's arms and wiping her tears. "How dare he come here? What right does he have?"

Harry instinctively had a response to her rhetorical questions. Lucius knew he had no right, but he also had no choice. He was trying to save his wife's life. Harry wisely kept his opinion to himself. Tact wasn't one of his strong suits, but even he knew not to taunt a raging dragon…unless he, Ron and Hermione were riding it out of Gringotts.

"He's gone now," he said. Although there was a good chance he'd be back. This wasn't something that would just go away.

"He never should've come. My family is dead. I lost everything on the orders of his lord. I owe him nothing."

Harry said nothing, but he didn't have to. Andromeda was hurting and she needed to talk; his lack of response seemed irrelevant, which was fortunate for him.

"I planned to leave with Ted, you know. Live in hiding with him. Then Dora got pregnant and I just couldn't leave her. I wonder if I'd been there they'd have killed me too. I'm damn sure Lucius and Narcissa wouldn't have cared if their friends killed me. It'd just be another victory for their insane cause. And now he comes to me for help. And my baby. My beautiful little girl, killed by her own aunt. That's what family means to them, Harry, and he dares to come here and use that connection against me. There is no connection - not anymore."

"I'm sorry," Harry offered. The words were meaningless, and he knew it. He wanted so much to give her just the slightest bit of peace in her pain, but he didn't know how. Peace wasn't something he was familiar with.

"I know you believe they've changed," Andromeda sighed. "You kept them out of Azkaban. I know Narcissa saved your life, but it's not like her motives were pure. You were just a means to an end, a way to save her son. Just like I'm a means to an end for her now."

"Hey, it's not like I'm best buddies with the Malfoys," he said, trying to lighten the mood. "I don't even know how many times Lucius tried to kill me. I didn't testify for them because I think they're great people. I did it because it was the right thing to do. They left Voldemort when it mattered most. Maybe their motives weren't the most noble, but they chose love in the end. They don't belong in Azkaban. They deserved a second chance so I helped them get one."

What had started out as a light-hearted attempt at humor turned into a rant about his own motives. He was just tired of being judged for testimony he gave over a year ago.

"Sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to go on like that."

Andromeda looked him right in the eyes. "You thought they deserved a second chance. What about a third? Do you think I should've had my blood tested?"

"Yes." His response was simple. He couldn't wrap his mind around the idea of letting someone die, especially your own sister. He knew his words weren't what she wanted to hear, but he refused to lie.

"Well, I can't. I won't. I know it's horrible, but I think it's the Malfoys turn to suffer. Why should their family stay whole while everyone else's is in shambles?"

* * *

Harry Apparated into his flat and went straight to the cupboard in search of his Firewhisky. Andromeda's cruel words still haunted his thoughts. She was always so kind. He never suspected she harboured such hatred inside for her family.

"Huh?" He stared at an empty cupboard. What the hell? He had four bottles. He was sure of it.

"Gone," said a voice behind him. "All gone. I put it down the drain."

Harry whipped around so fast he nearly fell over. Rage seeped in his blood. He could feel himself turning red.

"Damn it, Hermione," he yelled at his friend, seated comfortably at his kitchen table. She was unaffected by his outrage. "That stuff's expensive."

"Then I suggest you don't buy anymore because I'll put that down the drain too." She was calm and firm, which wasn't a good sign for him winning this argument.

"Is this your idea of an intervention?" he demanded, falling into a chair across from her. "You can inconvenience me, Hermione, but you can't stop me. I'll just go to a pub. Sometimes I even drink for free, being the Savior of the Wizarding World and all."

"Harry, you can't hide from me in a pub. I'm going to save you from yourself rather you want me to or not." She looked sad. "You're wasting your life and that's not right. You don't know how much time you have. People die. Don't waste your life with a bottle."

"People die?" He laughed, but there was no humor in his voice. "What tipped you off to that pearl of wisdom? The fact that my family is dead? Or maybe you figured it out when so many of our friends died before their thirtieth birthdays."

"You're being an arse."

"Yeah, I get that way without my Firewhisky."

"You don't need Firewhisky. You need to start living again before it's too late."

"Enough." He got to his feet so quickly that the chair toppled to the floor. "I'm not doing this, Hermione. I'm going to find a nice, cozy pub where I can drink in peace. We can talk later, preferably after you've found a new cause to focus your energy on."

"Don't you dare Disapparate, Harry Potter." The sharpness in her voice made him stop.

"I'm not letting you do this to yourself anymore." She was calm again. "I'll follow you through every pub in Britain if I have to. This has to stop or someday you'll find out you're dying and it'll be too late."

"Hermione, are you okay?"

Tension seized him. He righted the chair and sat back down, studying his oldest friend. Was something wrong with her? Was he going to lose her too?

"I'm fine," she assured him. "It's a patient. I had to diagnose someone I know with a potentially fatal disease. Now it's just haunting me. It makes death feel so close. After the war, after Ron, I think I convinced myself that those of us who survived had a free pass against death, at least, for awhile. Completely mental, I know. Anyway, this patient reminded me that life isn't guaranteed, even after all we've been through."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Are you talking about Narcissa Malfoy?"

"How'd you know that?" She appeared confused, which was a new look for Hermione. It suited her.

"That's the reason I was headed straight for the bottle. I was at Andromeda's this morning when Lucius came to talk to her about it. The whole thing was disastrous and heartbreaking. If Narcissa really needs Andromeda's blood to survive, her chances aren't good."

"She needs it," Hermione replied. "So Andromeda said no?"

"Yeah, and she seems pretty determined to stand by it."

"That's awful. I know she and Narcissa have a poor relationship, but to just your own sister die…"

"I know. Lucius is a wreck. Even after seeing him fall apart during the war, I never imagined he could be this destroyed by anything."

"He was pretty intense at the hospital. He really loves Narcissa."

"Speaking of the hospital, how did you end up Narcissa's Healer? Seems like an odd fit."

"Odd's one word for it," she sighed. "Toadface tried to kick them out. I guess by intervening I took the case."

"She's throwing people out of the hospital now?"

"She's trying."

"How is it she never gets sacked?"

Hermione shrugged. "Seniority? Friends in high places? No idea, but she seems to be unsackable."

"Just like her psycho sister."

"All that's missing is the pink bow."

Harry shook his head.

"I have to get back," she told him, "but I'm serious about the drinking. I'm watching you."

He considered telling her she could watch him drink his Firewhisky, but thought better of it. Instead, he nodded as she Disapparated from his flat.


	10. False Hope

_So let your walls come down_

_And you'll feel my emotion_

_I will shelter you_

_From a tear or an ocean_

_Whenever your hope is gone_

_I'll give you strength to carry on_

_In the darkness of the night_

_I will be your light_

_I'll give you something to hold on to_

_When you can't find your way_

_Like a fire burning bright_

_I will be your light_

_Your Light ~ Celine Dion_

"She said no." Draco stared at Lucius in obvious disbelief.

The look on his sweet, innocent face nearly brought tears to Narcissa's eyes. This was the response she expected from her sister, which was why she never intended to ask her. Apparently, Lucius had other plans. Plans he hadn't bothered to share with her.

"How could she say no?" Draco's voice was rising. "It's not like you asked her to give her arm. This costs her nothing and saves Mother's life."

Narcissa rose from the sofa where she'd been seated with Lucius, with minimal dizziness, and joined her son on the other sofa, wrapping her arms around his shaking shoulders.

"Draco, sweetheart, breath."

He leaned into her and she knew he was trying to compose himself. She could tell he was near tears, but knew he'd attempt to keep them at bay until he was alone. Her little dragon, always trying to be strong, even when he felt anything but. Damn Andromeda for doing this to him.

"I'm sorry." Lucius looked at his hands. "She was so angry. I never realized she hated us so much."

"She left me when I was a teenager," she replied, unable to keep the bitterness from her voice. "I woke up one morning and she was just gone - run off with her lover. She never said a word to me before she left. She never contacted me. I never saw her again. I was nothing to her then. Why would it be any different now?"

"It is different," Draco insisted, sitting straight and staring into her with his sad eyes. "You're ill now. She can't just refuse. She can't."

"Yes, she can," she said, squeezing his shoulder. "If she doesn't want to give blood, she doesn't have to. There's no way to force her."

"How can you be so calm about this?" Lucius demanded in a voice that was most certainly not calm. "Narcissa, this is your life."

She sighed. "I knew what she'd say. When the Healer said Andromeda was my only chance for survival, I knew I was going to die. While you were secretly meeting with her, I was trying to come to terms with that."

"No." Draco pulled out of her arms and glared at her with a mixture of horror and rage. "Don't say that. Don't talk like that."

"Draco-"

"He's right," Lucius cut her off. He moved across the room and settled beside her, taking her hand. "You can't think like that. We're not going to lose you. You can't give up. It was a mistake for me to approach her that's all."

"Why did you?"

He grimaced. "I expected the conversation to be rather simplistic. Who the hell refuses to save their own sister? I knew asking her for help would be difficult for you. You were hurt so badly when she left. I thought I could spare you that. I was wrong."

She pulled his hand to her lips and kissed it softly. "I love you for trying. And I'm sure her response had nothing to do with you."

"I don't know about that. Your sister really doesn't like me. The first thing she did was try to slam the door in my face. I swear, it took me a good twenty minutes just to get inside the house. I think I'm lucky she didn't send for one of her daughter's Auror friends."

"Why is she so cruel?" Draco demanded. "It's like dealing with Aunt Bella again. Actually, no, I take that back. Bella never tried to kill any of us."

Not knowing how to respond, Narcissa turned to Lucius. He was looking murderous and she really couldn't blame him. Andromeda traumatized his son and sentenced his wife to death. His rage was justified, but she'd have to make sure he didn't act on it. She couldn't stand the idea of dying with the knowledge that he was in Azkaban because of her. Besides, Draco would need him even more when she was gone.

"I don't know, Draco," he said.

"We could pay her," Draco suggested.

"No," Narcissa said. "She won't take money from us. Trying to buy her will just make her angrier. I do know a few things about my sister."

"We can't just give up."

"We're not giving up," Lucius assured him.

Narcissa suppressed a sigh. This wasn't what she wanted from her family. She didn't know how much time she had left, but she didn't want to spend it watching them scheme. What did they think they could accomplish?

"What did she say when you left?" Draco asked.

"Her last words were: get out and when I didn't do it fast enough for his liking Potter came out to enforce her point."

"Potter?" Draco looked as confused as she felt. "What the hell was he doing there?"

"Apparently, Andromeda's grandson is Potter's godson. I don't see the connection, but that's what she said."

"He was pretty chummy with the werewolf the year he taught at Hogwarts," Draco offered, "but that's a big leap to being named godfather to the bloke's kid."

"I have no idea, but I swear that Potter kid shows up everywhere."

"So he was on her side then?" Draco asked. "He thinks Andromeda should refuse to help Mother?"

Lucius shrugged. "I didn't ask his opinion, Draco. He asked me to leave and I did. There was nothing more for me to do there. I'm sure Narcissa will have better luck when she talks to her. I should've left it to her in the first place."

Narcissa stared at him. Where had that come from? He thought she was going to beg her sister for help? She'd said no such thing. In fact, she told him Andromeda would say no. Why would he think she'd put herself through that? Being cruelly rejected by her sister as a child was enough; she had no desire to repeat the ordeal.

She opened her mouth to tell him that she'd be doing no such thing, but quickly shut it again. Looking between her husband and son, she saw an identical expression on both their faces - an expression of hope. If she refused to speak to Andromeda, she'd rip that hope away from them. In a way, it'd the kind thing to do. Denying the inevitable wasn't helping them, but the thought to replacing their hope with despair was just too much for her to handle.

To hell with her pride. To hell with inevitabilities. To hell with Andromeda. She'd let them have their false hope a little while longer.

"Yes," she forced a smile. "I'll change her mind. Everything's going to be fine." The lies tasted like sulphur in her mouth. "I'll see her first thing in the morning. I promise."


	11. You Can't Save the World

_Someone told me love will all save us._

_But how can that be, look what love gave us._

_A world full of killing, and blood-spilling_

_That world never came._

_And they say that a hero can save us._

_I'm not gonna stand here and wait._

_I'll hold onto the wings of the eagles._

_Watch as we all fly away._

_Now that the world isn't ending, its love that I'm sending to you._

_It isn't the love of a hero, and that's why I fear it won't do._

_Hero ~ Nickelback_

In her favorite chair in the St Mungo's staff room, Hermione sat with her leg curled beneath her, staring at words she'd already read a hundred times, willing them to change. Her eyes burned from overuse and she rubbed them roughly.

She was still reading when Susan burst into the staff room a few minutes later. Her gorgeous red hair was hanging loose and she was wearing a too-short dress. Her shift was over and obviously she had a date with Seamus.

"Hermione, what are you still doing here?" Susan stood beside her friend with a familiar expression of annoyance. "Your shift ended three hours ago. You should be home. Do you even remember what our flat looks like?"

"I'm reading up on Cruremus," Hermione replied. The words sounded lame, even to her, and she could guess Susan's reply.

Sitting on a window ledge, Susan crossed her arms and glared. Seamus called it her motherly stance, but it reminded Hermione of Professor Snape.

"There are three articles on Cruremus disease," Susan said with a sigh. "I know this because you told me - after reading them. It's rare, Hermione. We don't know much about it. Reading the same thing repeatedly isn't going to increase your knowledge."

"I feel like I'm missing something."

"You don't miss things. You're brilliant, remember?" Susan smirked. "Why are you so obsessed with this anyway? You know how to treat your patient. All you have to do is wait for the sister to come in."

"She's not coming."

"Huh? How do you know that?"

"Narcissa's sister is Andromeda Tonks, grandmother and legal guardian to Harry's godson. Harry was there when Andromeda was asked. She was very clear about her decision."

Susan's eyes widened. "That's kind of messed up."

"That whole family is kind of messed up." Hermione shook her head.

"Okay, so the sister said no," Susan spoke in a professional no-nonsense tone. "That doesn't explain what you're doing. You're Narcissa Malfoy's Healer, not her savior. You wouldn't even be that if you had any sense. Remember the scar on your arm, courtesy of Narcissa's other sister? The Malfoys held you captive and nearly fed you to a werewolf. Hermione, you told me this story yourself. You don't owe that woman anything. You've done your duty as her Healer and that's more than she deserved."

"What do you want me to do - let her die? I'm not Toadface."

"You're not letting her die. That's on her sister. You've done your job. Why are you going above and beyond for her?"

"I don't know," Hermione said, looking away.

"Yes, you do." Susan's voice was sharp. "We've been friends for a long time. I know you. You don't do things on impulse. You chose to intervene with Toadface. You chose to stay on as Narcissa Malfoy's Healer. And now you're choosing to pursue this case like a lunatic. Why?"

"I don't want her to die," Hermione admitted. "Yes, I have reasons to hate her, but I don't. Yes, she stood by when I was tortured. You don't have to remind me. That's not a night I'm going to forget. But I forgave that night long ago when I supported Harry at the Malfoy trial. And I've seen goodness in Narcissa. She saved Harry's life. I've seen how much she loves her family and how much they love her. Practically the whole wizarding world is against them. They deserve to have someone in their corner."

After her speech, Hermione took a deep breath. She hadn't intended to say all that. Why was Susan so good at making her talk, especially when she didn't want to?

"And?" Susan pressed, leaning against the window without taking her eyes off Hermione.

"And what?"

"I believe everything you just said, but there's still more to this. Don't bother lying to me."

"You should've become a shrink instead of a Healer."

"And you should've been a filthy rich philanthropist. Come on, Hermione. Tell me. Talking about this is better than re-reading those damn papers. Just tell me."

"Fine," Hermione sighed. She'd come this far. "I can see myself in Narcissa Malfoy, as bizarre as that sounds. She lost years of her life over the war. Draco almost died. Lucius spent a year in Azkaban. Now her family has a chance to be whole and happy again. I don't want their happy ending to turn out like mine. I don't want her to be the next Ron."

"Your level of compassion is a bit frightening. If you cut it in half and gave the extra to Toadface, things would go a lot smoother around here."

"Are you really making fun of me right now?"

Susan laughed.

"Look, Hermione, you need to relax. It's noble that you want to save Narcissa, but you're only human. You can't re-write her story anymore than you can re-write Ron's. Unless Andromeda Tonks changes her mind, Narcissa will die. You don't have to like the facts, but you do have to accept them. Reading those articles until you go blind isn't going to change anything."

Hopping off the window sill, Susan came over to stand by Hermione.

"You need a break. Come out with me and Seamus. It'll be fun - nice and stress free."

"No thanks," Hermione replied, tossing the articles aside. Susan was right about them, at least. "You're a great friend, Susan, but I'm not up for watching you snog Seamus all night."

"We can get you a date." Susan's eyes lit up with excitement and Hermione held back a groan. "What about Cormac? He always fancied you."

"No," Hermione said firmly. "We've had this conversation before. I don't want to date, not after Ron. And Cormac is vile. I'd rather date Professor Slughorn."

"You can still come with us," Susan insisted. "We'll be good. No snogging. I promise. Just three friends having a good time."

"I'm not going to spoil your fun. Besides I want to go to Harry's tonight. I'm helping him with his drinking problem and I need to check-in."

"Uh-huh." Susan shot her a knowing glance. "And did he ask for your help?"

"That's not the point. He needs help."

"Hermione, you can't save the world, especially the parts that don't want to be saved."

"Harry's my best friend. I can't keep watching him trash his life. Who knows how much time he has?"

"Harry's not Narcissa. Her illness is really getting to you."

"I'm sick of death."

"It's a part of life. Anyway I'm running really late. Seamus is gonna be cranky. Are you sure you won't come? Live your own life instead of everyone else's?"

Hermione shook her head. "I really need to check on Harry."

"Okay, fine. Waste your evening. I'll see you at home."

"Be safe," Hermione called as Susan rushed from the room with a wave.

Alone again, Hermione glanced at the articles she'd allowed to fall to the floor. Part of her wanted to read them one last time, but she resisted the urge. Those pages held no answers for her and no help for Narcissa.

Leaving the papers on the floor, she Apparated into Harry's kitchen.

A slight pop announced her arrival, but Harry didn't come to greet her. The kitchen was dark and she saw no light coming from the other rooms.

"Harry," she called out.

Of course, there was no response. Just to be sure, she checked the bedroom, hoping Harry decided to turn in early. The bed was empty.

"Okay, Harry," she said to the empty flat. "If that's how you want to play it."

Sighing, she tried to prepare herself for what promised to be a long night of pub searching. Maybe she'd see Susan and Seamus after all.


	12. Here's to Forgetting

_I wanna be drunk when I wake up_

_On the right side of the wrong bed_

_And never an excuse I made up_

_Tell you the truth I hate_

_What didn't kill me_

_It never made me stronger at all._

_Drunk ~ Ed Sheeran_

Draco watched as his father carried his mother upstairs to bed. He couldn't tell if she actually needed help or if Lucius was just being extra cautious with her. The fact that she allowed him to carry her without argument made Draco think she really was feeling weak.

As his parents ascended the stairs, Draco's mood plummeted. He was consumed by thoughts of his strong mother growing weaker and weaker. Images of her pale and bleeding flashed before his eyes. What if she was unable to change Andromeda's mind? Would these fears become his reality?

No longer able to stay still, he got to his feet and started pacing. He eyed his father's bar, but opted to touch nothing. If he started drinking, he wouldn't stop until the bar was dry. With both of his parents already concerned about his drinking habits, the last thing they needed was to find the bar dry with him passed out beside it.

Glancing at an elaborate grandfather clock, he saw that it was only eight thirty. His stomach fluttered as he tried to remember the last time his parents went to be so early. The answer was never.

Sighing, Draco knew he couldn't do this all night, wandering his family's home alone, consumed by fear. He wouldn't last until nine o'clock.

With one last look at Lucius' bar, he decided what to do. Not that it was really much of a decision. Every night when his thoughts became too much to handle he did the same thing.

Walking with purpose, he left the house. The late spring air was warm and inviting. A slight breeze ruffled his hair as the gate opened and he left his family's property. The sound of the gate locking behind him always gave him chills now, reminding him of his narrow escape from an Azkaban sentence.

As always, he started walking towards town. The Malfoys had always liked their privacy so it was a bit of a hike to civilization, but he didn't mind. It felt good to move. Besides he'd cause quite a stir if he Apparated into the middle of Joe's Pub.

About twenty minutes later, he slipped unnoticed into his favorite watering hole and settled at his usual table near the back. The pub was small, smelly and the furnishings were rickety, but none of that mattered. No one in this pub knew Draco's name or the horrible things he'd done. Here he was just some random bloke with a drinking problem, and that was the way he liked it.

A young barmaid with dark hair and a pretty smile approached him. She'd told him her name, probably more than once, but he couldn't recall it. Considering the amount of liquor he consumed in this place, it was a wonder he even recognized her face.

"Welcome back, nameless one," she teased, smiling broadly. Perhaps he'd refused to give his name. He had no memory of that conversation. "The usual then?"

"Yes, please." He did his best to return her smile, but it died on his lips. He was low on reasons to smile.

While he waited for his drink, he glanced around the familiar surroundings. It was a slow night for Joe's, but there were still a half-dozen Muggles spread throughout the pub, drinking their sorrows away. He wondered if any of them had a story as bleak and horrifying as him. Probably not. He really was a pathetic case.

"Here you go," the barmaid said cheerfully, sitting his drink in front of him.

"Thank you."

As he sipped the drink, he was reminded of his first experiment with hard liquor. It burned all the way down and all the way back up. He'd been so sick; he thought he was dying. Now the alcohol went down as smooth as pumpkin juice and his hangovers were mild. He was well on his way to becoming a first-class drunkard. At least, he was good at something.

He was still nursing his first drink when a familiar figure plopped down across from him, joining him without asking for permission.

"Bloody hell," he said, staring at Draco with unmasked shock. "Malfoy, what the hell are you doing here?"

Draco couldn't respond right away. He was out of practice with his snark and kind of confused. This was the last person he expected to run into at Joe's. Finally, he recovered enough to form words.

"This is my local, Potter," he replied, pleased that his voice was smooth and natural. "It's you who should be explaining what you're doing in a pub in Wilshire."

"This is your _Muggle_ local," Potter pointed out. "Not the type of place I'd expect to find you. Come on, Malfoy. What are you doing here?"

"A tad nosy, aren't you, Potter?"

Before he could reply, the barmaid returned to take his order. Potter looked baffled by the simple question of what he wanted to drink, glancing around as if the walls would give him an adequate answer.

"I'll have what he's having," he finally said, gesturing towards Draco.

"Gonna answer me?" Potter asked once they were alone again.

"Maybe." Draco shrugged, draining his glass. "You first, Potter. What are you doing here?"

"Fine," he sighed. "I'm hiding from Hermione."

Draco laughed as he sat the empty glass on the table. Of all possible responses, this seemed like one of the most unlikely. A few minutes ago, he couldn't manage a polite smile and now, thanks to Potter's insanity, he was laughing. It felt good.

"Why are you hiding from Granger?"

Potter shook his head. "First tell me why you're here."

"Are we playing quid pro quo?"

"Why not?" Potter shrugged. "I've got nothing better to do tonight. Doesn't look like you do either."

"All right. What the hell? I come here a lot. I don't get the best service at wizarding pubs. Comes with being nationally despised. No one knows me here."

"But you're surrounded by Muggles."

"Not the issue for me it once was. Even I'm capable of learning a thing or two, Potter. Your turn. Why are you hiding from Granger?"

"Her latest crusade is to save me from myself. She got rid of all my alcohol and threatened to stalk me. I figured this was the last place she'd look. Why would I ever think to come to a Muggle pub in your hometown?"

They were interrupted then as the barmaid brought Potter's drink. Without asking, she took Draco's glass and replaced it with a full one. She knew he never stopped after just one drink.

Potter took a large gulp and promptly spat it back into the glass making the face of a possessed clown.

"What the fuck is that?"

"Very elegant, Potter." Draco sipped his own drink. "It's tequila. They tell me it's the strongest liquor here. Shouldn't you know these things? You did grow-up in the Muggle world."

Potter sniffed his glass and made another face. After completing a few other inspections, he took a small sip. When that failed to kill him and he didn't spit it out, he seemed to relax and continued drinking.

"I practically left the Muggle world when I was eleven. I wasn't drinking this shit then."

"Maybe you should've. Maybe we both should've. Might've made some things easier to take."

Potter burst out laughing.

"Sorry," he said once he regained his composure. "I was just picturing the look on McGonagall's face if we'd both gotten off the train, first year, sloshed."

Draco smirked. "Forget McGonagall. Snape would've tried to have you expelled before the train left."

"The good old days." Potter shook his head. "Never thought I'd miss them."

"You're not the only one."

They were silent for a few minutes, just drinking. Draco was surprised that the silence didn't feel awkward. It was like sitting with an old friend instead of an old enemy.

"I'm sorry about your mum," Potter said at last, not meeting his eyes.

"Thanks, but I'm here to forget about that, not talk about it."

"Sure. That I understand."

They continued to talk and drink. They'd probably been at it a good half hour before Draco wondered why he hadn't told Potter to get the fuck away from him when he first sat down. Had he been sober, he might've found that troubling. In his current state, it was mildly curious. The barmaid made sure their glasses were never empty. They didn't talk about much, avoiding any questionable topics, which in their case included an awful lot. Yet it didn't matter. Draco was simply glad for the company, even if it was Potter.

When his words started to slur and his vision blurred, Draco knew it was time to go home. He was now drunk enough to sleep through the night without nightmares.

"I should be going to that home place," he told Potter.

"Yeah," he agreed. "I need home, too. Mione be going nutters."

Draco almost laughed. They weren't merely slurring their words anymore; they'd moved on to full-fledged drunk-speak. Drunk talk with Harry Potter. Proof that anything was possible.

"How you getting home?" he asked. "You no Apparate. Too sloshed."

Pulling something small out of his pocket, Potter smiled, looking very proud of himself. "With this."

"How shitfaced is you, Potty?" he laughed. "That's a paperclip."

With great force, Potter jammed the paperclip into his pocket, glaring at Draco. Great, just what Draco needed, a drunken, sulking Potter.

"It's a portkey. Made it myself."

Draco was impressed, but didn't let on. After all, this was Potter. Drinking with him and complimenting him were two very different things.

"When's it leave? You don't wanna miss it. I might have take you home with me."

The look on Potter's face was one of sheer confusion. "I forget."

"Well, we need pay for drinks. Let's do that."

"Ah, hell."

"Now wha?"

"I forgets Muggy money."

"You made a portkey, but forgot money?"

Potter nodded, looking genuinely distressed about his situation.

"My treat, then. I pay this. Then I'll wait with you for the portkey. Somewhere no one see us, all sneaky like."

"You're my best mate, Malfoy." He beamed at him.


	13. Bitter Reunion

_Oh what a shame, what a rainy ending given to a perfect day_

_Just walk away, no use defending words that you will never say_

_And now that I'm sitting here thinking it through_

_I've never been anywhere cold as you_

_You never did give a damn thing honey but I cried, cried for you_

_And I know you wouldn't have told nobody if I died, died for you_

_Cold as You ~ Taylor Swift_

The house was unnaturally silent as Narcissa sat alone sipping tea she didn't want. It was unusual for her to wake before Lucius. He slept so fitfully; he often rose before the sun. The strain of learning about her illness and dealing with her sister must've exhausted him.

She, on the other hand, was anything but sleepy. Mostly she was jittery as if suffering from a caffeine high. She was unable to stop shaking her foot and had an urge to pace. But she forced herself to remain seated. Pacing wouldn't solve her problem. She hadn't been this nervous since sharing her home with the Dark Lord, and all over talking to her sister.

When Lucius wandered into the room, she was still fighting the urge to pace. Her tea had been set aside and forgotten.

"You're up early," he said as he sat down beside her.

She waited for him to scold her, tell her she should be resting, but he said nothing more. Instead, he moved closer to her as if trying to shield her from some unseen evil.

"I couldn't sleep. You looked so peaceful for a change. I didn't want to wake you." She rested her head on his shoulder, taking comfort in his presence.

"You can always wake me."

She smiled. Before Lucius, she never felt truly loved. She knew he wasn't a perfect man, but he'd always loved her perfectly.

"You're nervous about seeing Andromeda, aren't you?" he asked. "I never should've gone over there. I only made things worse."

"No," she said softly, "you were trying to help. I'm sorry she was cruel to you. I'm sure that had more to do with me than you. And yes, I'm nervous about seeing her."

She didn't tell him that she only agreed to see Andromeda for the benefit of him and Draco. There was no reason to remind him how little faith she had in her sister and how inevitable her death was, at least, not yet.

Before Lucius could offer any words of encouragement, Draco stumbled into the room, looking like a zombie. He was unsteady on his feet and his eyes were even redder than usual. It was hard to tell if he was hung-over or still drunk. Her poor baby. She hated to see him so lost.

"Morning," he mumbled, sitting down without looking to the bar, a sure sign that he didn't want to upset her.

"Good morning, sweetheart."

"It's nice to see you before noon," Lucius said. "To what do we owe the pleasure?"

"Can't you ever be kind to our son?"

"It's fine, Mother," Draco intervened quickly. "He's right. I'd normally still be asleep."

"So why aren't you?" She kept her tone gentle, trying not to sound judgmental like Lucius had.

Draco stifled a yawn. "I wanted to see if you needed some support talking to Andromeda. I can go with you, if you want."

She smiled at her son, but before she could decline his offer Lucius spoke.

"Actually, that's not a bad idea. We can both come with you, Narcissa. I'm not sure your health allows for dealing with that woman on your own. We should be there."

A large part of her wanted to accept their offer. She wanted to hide in their arms, allowing them to protect her from what was bound to be a brutal encounter, but she couldn't do it. Lucius had already sparred with Andromeda and she treated him horribly. Draco was fragile and certainly didn't need to see her death sentence handed down. The humiliation of being rejected by her sister - again - was something she needed to handle on her own.

Of course, she couldn't tell Lucius and Draco any of that. She'd both hurt and upset them. She searched her mind for more acceptable reasons to leave them behind.

"I love you both so much. I love that you'd even offer to come, knowing how difficult Andromeda can be, but this is something I need to do myself. We already know that she doesn't want to do this. If we all show-up there, she'll feel attacked. She's my sister and I'm the one who needs her help. It's only right that I alone ask for that help."

Considering when she opened her mouth she had no idea what she was going to say, she was pleased with her words. For the most part, they were even true.

"Are you sure you're well enough to be Apparating alone?" Lucius asked, turning to study her.

"I'm fine. I actually feel pretty good today, like there's nothing wrong at all. Besides neither of the Healers we saw suggested I limit my activities. And I'm sure if there was any danger, the little Granger girl would've known it."

At the mention of the girl's name, Narcissa could hear her screams echoing in her mind. She shivered, but fortunately Lucius was too busy debating her words her notice.

"That seems likely," Draco admitted. He'd been silent for so long, she thought he'd fallen asleep. "Granger does her research. If it's written down, she knows about it. She'd have told us if there was anything Mother should avoid."

Lucius looked between the two of them and sighed. She knew he was about to give in.

"You're sure you want to go alone. You can just take Draco, if you want."

"I need to go alone," she insisted, getting to her feet, "and there's no reason to put it off."

Both Lucius and Draco looked at her with obvious concern, which she found both endearing and annoying. After all, she was doing this for them, not herself.

"I won't be long," she promised. "Don't worry the whole time I'm gone. I'll be fine. Draco, you should go back to bed. You can hardly keep your eyes open."

She didn't give him a chance to respond, Disapparating before she lost her nerve.

She found herself standing in front of a modest, two-storey house with a large backyard. To an average person, the house was likely perfectly respectable. To a woman who was born a Black and married to a Malfoy, it didn't look like much. She was reminded that Andromeda gave-up her inheritance as well as her family when she chose to run off with her lover all those years ago.

Attempting to forget the past, she knocked on the door. As she waited, she realized she had no idea what to expect. The last time she saw her sister they were little more than children. So much time had passed. Would she even recognize her?

The door opened to reveal a woman she'd recognize anywhere. She was tall and slender with the same unruly hair she'd cursed growing-up. She'd aged a lot more than her years could account for. Her eyes were tired and lacked the sparkle Narcissa remembered so well. Wrinkles dug into her once flawless skin.

Narcissa's eyes drifted away from her sister to the bundle in her arms. The grandson - her great nephew. His face was buried in Andromeda's shoulder and she couldn't get much of a look at him. Still she was surprised by the blue hair topping his tiny head.

"I've been expecting you," Andromeda said. Her face revealed no emotion, possibly because she felt no emotion for Narcissa. "You might as well come in." She gestured to a table and chairs in the corner of her small kitchen. "Sit if you want. I'm going to put Teddy down. I'll be right back."

Narcissa sat with her back to the door, looking out a large window into the backyard. Already her feelings were hurt. Andromeda couldn't get her grandson out of the room fast enough as if she expected Narcissa to attack the infant. She found herself wanting to meet the child, but knew that could never happen.

Setting in the chair across from her, Andromeda studied her, but appeared disinterested. With Andromeda now blocking the view of the yard, Narcissa had nowhere else to look but into her sister's sad eyes. They were both silent, simply staring.

"You look well enough," Andromeda said at last.

"I don't know what to say to that."

"Well, you must have something to say. You're here after all these years." Her voice was cold, colder than Narcissa ever remembered hearing it.

"Draco and Lucius are upset," she said not knowing why. Andromeda certainly wouldn't care about her family's feelings.

"I imagine so." Andromeda folded her hands on the table. "Lucius was very emotional. I didn't think he had it in him."

"Please, don't mock my husband. I'm sorry he came. I didn't ask him to." She stared down at the lace tablecloth.

Andromeda smirked. "No that little performance was all Lucius. He expected me to do exactly what he demanded. I suppose some things never change. Of course, you must be expecting the same thing. I suppose you're going to remind me that we're sisters half a dozen times too. But, I'll admit, one thing confuses me. I can't believe you'd allow my blood-traitor blood in your veins. I assumed you'd prefer death. Dear Bella would be so disappointed in you."

Narcissa stared her down, careful to show no emotion.

"Do you really want a response to that or were just attempting to be hurtful?"

Shrugging, Andromeda replied, "If you have one."

"All right." Narcissa continued to stare into Andromeda's eyes, refusing to look away. "Yes, Lucius expected you would agree to donate blood. He was under the false impression that our familial connection would mean something to you. I, however, expect nothing from you. But, yes, I would accept your blood, if you were willing to give it. I don't want to die, Andromeda. My family needs me."

She took a breath, not breaking eye contact.

"You're the one who called yourself a blood-traitor, not me. That phrase means nothing to me anymore. I regret using it to judge you, especially when I had valid reasons to be angry with you. As for Bella, any bond we shared died when she decided my son's life was should be sacrificed."

"Are you done?"

"Yes."

"Well, Narcissa that was a very interesting speech. I'm not sure how much of it was true, but it was entertaining nonetheless."

Narcissa sighed. "I have no reason to lie to you."

"Except for the fact that you want my blood."

"Which you've made perfectly clear I'm not getting."

"Then why are you here?"

"Because this is devastating my family. Lucius and Draco thought I could get a different response from you. They were so upset. I just couldn't refuse them. Originally, I didn't plan to approach you at all. I know what you think of me. I knew your answer before Lucius thought to come here."

A flash of emotion crossed Andromeda's face, but it vanished before Narcissa could identify it.

"Narcissa, I'm raising an infant by myself. I'm tired. Please, just say what you have to say so I can get back to Teddy."

Taking a deep breath, Narcissa uttered the words she'd been avoiding. "Andromeda, I need you. You're my only chance for survival. Please, will you help me?"

"Where was your help when your lord ordered my entire family killed? Where was your help when our sister murdered my daughter in cold blood?"

"I'm sorry about your family."

"No," Andromeda snapped, "you're sorry my daughter isn't here as another potential blood bank."

"That's not true."

"Enough. My answer is the same, Narcissa. I can't help you. Maybe you should consider this karma for all the crimes you and your family never paid for."

Nothing about her changed as she told Narcissa she was letting her die. There was no hint of remorse or glee. It was like her sister's life wasn't even worth acknowledging.

"As I've said, I have a baby to get back to," Andromeda went on. "Thanks to your lord, his parents aren't here to take care of him."

"He's not my lord."

"I really don't care anymore." Andromeda got to her feet. "I have nothing else to say to you or your family members. Please, just go." She left the room, not caring enough to ensure her sister's departure.

Narcissa Apparated home to find Lucius and Draco where she left them. They both looked to her expectantly and she couldn't force herself to tell them that nothing had changed. Andromeda's answer was the same.

Saying nothing, she fell into Lucius' arms, letting loose the tears that had been building the whole time she was with her sister.


	14. Unfixable

_Happiness, it's been no friend to me  
But forever after aint what its all cracked up to be  
Yeah, I had a taste, you were my fantasy  
But I lost my faith when I hit reality  
I don't need no guru to tell me what to do  
When you're feeling like a headline on  
Yesterdays news_

_Come on, come on, come on_  
_Give me something for the pain_  
_Give me something for the blues_  
_Give me something for the pain when_  
_I feel I've been danglin' from a hang-mans noose_  
_Give me something I can use_  
_To get me through the night_

_Something for the Pain ~ Bon Jovi_

A loud pop echoed through Harry's kitchen as Hermione appeared, far louder than she was accustomed to. Her anger and exhaustion were starting to affect her Apparation skills. Next she'd splinch herself and Toadface would refuse to treat her at St. Mungos.

"Harry," she yelled, stomping across the room. "Harry."

When he didn't respond, she felt a pang of fear. What if something happened to him? What if he finally managed to drink himself to death? What if he hadn't been drinking? What if he had fatal withdrawal symptoms without access to the potion she now had with her?

"Harry," she cried again, bursting into his bedroom.

Loud snoring greeted her and for just a second her rage was replaced with relief. He was alive and safe. She hadn't lost her best friend. Breathing deeply, she leaned against the doorway for support, allowing the tension and fear to drain from her body.

Harry let out a snort causing her to jump. The annoying sound reminded her why she was there in the first place. Any sense of relief evaporated. Once again, she was furious.

Approaching Harry, she discovered he was drooling and reeked of booze. Any lingering doubts about how he spent his night were squashed. But where the hell had he been? She's searched, at least, thirty pubs.

She grabbed his pillow from beneath his head. His only response was an unattractive grunt. In frustration, she whacked his face with the pillow, using all her strength.

This time he opened his eyes and glanced around the room with a look of confusion. He fumbled for his glasses, nearly knocking them to the floor. Once the glasses were secured to his face he looked at Hermione with recognition.

"What the hell?" he muttered, pushing himself into a sitting position. "Did you just hit me?"

"Yes," she replied shortly. "Do you know what time it is?"

"No." He covered his eyes, not enjoying the sunlight filtering through his window. "I don't care what time it is. I was sleeping until some crazy person broke into my flat and started assaulting me with pillows."

"It's noon. You shouldn't be sleeping this time of day. You should be at work like I was. Now I'm using my lunch break to make sure you're still alive."

"I'm alive," he mumbled, throwing his blankets over his head. "Can I please go back to sleep now, Hermione. I feel like shit."

Grunting, she ripped the blankets away and threw them to the floor, revealing Harry in nothing but a pair of black boxer shorts. If it were any other man, she'd be mortified beyond belief, but because it was Harry, she didn't even flinch.

"Damn it, Hermione."

"You feel like shit because you're hung-over - again." She sat on the edge of his bed. "You really have to stop this. I want to help you, but you won't let me. I spent all last night looking for you. Where did you go?"

Harry sighed. "Why would I tell you? Then the next time, you'd be able to find me. How many times do I have to say it? I don't want help. I just want to drink in peace."

Shaking her head, Hermione took his hand. "You might not want help, but you need it. I love you, Harry. I just want to see you living again, not wallowing in guilt and self-destruction."

"How many times are we going to have this conversation?" He ripped his hand away and glared at her. "It's getting old. You call me an alcoholic. I call you a workaholic. We yell. You leave. We're both mad. Then we repeat the whole thing a few days later. Aren't you tired of this?"

"I can't give up on you."

Harry shook his head. "I can't be the person you want. You can bury your pain in work and still help the world. That's great, Hermione, but I can't do it. Everything hurts too much. Everything reminds me of someone I failed to save. Alcohol is the only thing that numbs the pain and stops the memories. Please, don't take it away from me. It's all I have left."

"That's not true. You have me, Teddy and Andromeda. You'd have the Weasleys too, if you'd let them in. You're not alone. Lots of people love you. People who are suffering too. We all know the hell you're going through."

"Oh, really. You know how I feel? Were you the Chosen One, Hermione? Did your parents die for you? Was it your responsibility to keep our allies safe? You have no idea what I feel. You don't know what it's like to fail your friends and family, and then watch them die."

"Do you honestly think you're the only one who feels like a failure in this?" Hermione yelled back, tears stinging her eyes. "You're not. Okay, you were the Chosen One, but you were never meant to fight this war alone. Every casualty reflects on everyone who fought this war, not just you. Every one of us who still draws breath is filled with guilt. I wonder every day, if I'd done something different would Ron still be here? What about Fred, Tonks or Remus? Did my actions lead to their deaths? We all have these questions, but we all have to deal with it - even you."

"You don't deal with it. You avoid it. Just like me."

"At least, I live. I go out in the world and try to make things better. All those people you're pining for, don't you think you're doing them a disservice? They're dead. They didn't get a chance to live their lives. By refusing to life yours, you spit on their memory."

"That's enough," Harry roared.

"I'm not finished," she said calmly. "What about Narcissa Malfoy? She survived this war too. She got a second chance because of you. Now she's likely to lose it. She doesn't spend her days at the bottom of a bottle. She has a family who'd do anything to save her. I know you care or you'd have let them go to Azkaban. Don't you think it's wrong to waste your life while she fights for hers?"

"Honestly, I don't think the Malfoys much care what I do with my life."

"Ahh," Hermione screamed, pounding the mattress. "This isn't about the Malfoys' opinion of your life choices. The point is Narcissa is ill. She could die young. I can't find a way to help her. People die young every day. You still have your life and your health. You owe it to the people who don't to do something with it."

"I'm tired of owing. I did my part for the world. I fulfilled the prophesy. Voldemort is dead. If this world thinks I owe it more than that, it can kiss my arse."

"What about what you owe yourself? You deserve some happiness in your life. If you keep pushing, you're going to end up alone?"

"What about you? Aren't you alone, Hermione? You come here and fight me, trying to fix me, but you're just as fucked up as I am. Having a job doesn't make you better than me. You want to talk about happiness? When was the last time you were happy?"

She knew the answer right away. The day Ron died. They'd spent the morning together, talking about wedding plans. The last time she was happy was a few minutes before he was killed when he kissed her for the last time. She didn't want to tell Harry that so she said nothing.

"See?" Harry said as if he'd just proven a point. "You're miserable too. How about you fix your own life instead of trying to control mine?"

Again, Hermione had an answer. She tried to fix Harry's life instead of her own because his life was still fixable. Hers wasn't. Ron was dead. Nothing could fix that and nothing could fix her.

"I have to go back to work. I'm leaving this potion for you. If you decide to take my advice and stop drinking, take a vial of this twice a day. It'll stop you from having withdrawal symptoms. Please, Harry, think about what I've said." And then she Disapparated before Harry could say anything else.


	15. The Tequila Tango

_Two men_

_They started walking_

_Started talking 'bout better days_

_One says to the other_

_We do it all again_

_Seems I knew I would_

_And now I found it_

_Found I adored it_

_I didn't want this_

_Somebody help me see_

_Now I feel it_

_Feel like I've been there_

_I didn't need this_

_Somebody help me breathe_

_Here we are again_

_Just face to facing_

_Each other another day_

_Who wins_

_Well who cares_

_It always ends up the same_

_Seems I knew I would_

_Breathe ~ Nickelback_

Fury surged through Harry as he pounded his fists against the wall. He looked at his knuckles to find them bleeding, but he felt no pain. Even the symptoms from his hangover were dulled. The only thing he felt was anger, but he was unsure rather it was directed at Hermione or himself.

Not wanting to think about the row or the things that'd been said, he dressed quickly, paying no attention to what he put on. He needed a drink. And since he'd failed to replenish his stash after Hermione's unwelcome tantrum that meant going out.

It was the middle of the day and he knew Hermione was at the hospital. She'd have her hands full with Toadface. Even if she somehow knew he went out, she wouldn't have time to hunt him down. He was free to visit any pub he wanted, but he had an unexplained urge to return to Joe's.

Much of the previous night was a blur. Usually he remembered his drinking binges. Must've had something to do with the Muggle alcohol. He only remembered bits and pieces. They played through his mind like flashes. He saw the dingy pub. He saw a pretty barmaid. He remembered talking to Malfoy, but not everything they said. And he had a vague recollection of something called tequila.

The blanks in his memory were unnerving, and nothing he remembered explained his desire to return to Joe's. Yet the longing wouldn't leave him.

"What the hell?" he muttered. His subconscious wanted to go to Joe's and he saw no reason to argue with it. After all, Joe's had booze.

He Apparated to a field in the outskirts of town. How did he even know that place? A large, black and white cow gave him a strange look, but there were no Muggles in sight. He petted the frightened animal before starting the short walk into town.

As he walked, he paid no attention to his surroundings. Mostly, he looked at his feet, glancing up every so often in search of the pub. When his eyes finally landed on the shabby, little building, he felt his whole body relax. Seeing the neon sign that announced the pub's name made him smile.

He strolled through the door with a goofy grin on his face and he had no idea why. He didn't really care. He was just pleased that his most recent row with Hermione was already fading from his mind.

Even in the daylight, Joe's was dark. The lighting was probably used to distract patrons from the lack of décor. Although, at the moment, Joe's also had a lack of patrons. Apparently, people in Wiltshire didn't get sloshed in the middle of the afternoon.

Only one seat was taken in the darkest corner of the pub. The blonde boy sat with his back to Harry, but there was no mistaking who he was. Malfoy. So Harry wasn't the only one returning to a disgusting pub in the middle of the day. Malfoy's presence somehow made him feel vindicated.

Just like the night before, he sat at Malfoy's table without invitation. They boy raised his eyebrows, but said nothing as he continued sipping his drink.

"Back so soon, Malfoy?" he jeered, unable to resist provoking his old rival. "You know, you might have a drinking problem."

"And I suppose you're here for the excellent décor and fascinating conversation?"

"Ah, but I already know I have a problem. Hermione's just finished telling me for the thousandth time."

Malfoy just finished his drink as the barmaid returned with a fresh glass. Harry recognized her as the girl who'd served them the night before.

"You too?" she said, glancing in his direction. "Drinking in the daytime, just like your mate, here. I suspect you'll become a regular too. Tequila again, honey?"

"Yeah, thanks."

Shaking her head, the barmaid left to fetch his drink.

"She thinks we're alcoholics," Harry said.

"Honestly, Potter, I don't care what the barmaid or anyone else thinks of me."

"Little cranky today, are we?"

The barmaid left his drink without comment and he took a large gulp, anxious for the familiar numbing sensation of drunkenness. As he drank, Malfoy glared at him.

"What?" he finally asked.

"Why are you here, Potter?"

"I thought that was pretty obvious," he replied, glancing at his glass. "I'm here to drink. This is a pub."

Sighing, Malfoy looked away in annoyance.

"You know, you're normally a git," Harry said, "but you're usually entertaining about it. What's with all the brooding? You're reminding me of Snape."

"I didn't ask you to sit here."

Harry didn't have a response for that and was relieved when they were interrupted by the barmaid. She set a huge pitcher of tequila between them.

"We're not supposed to serve this stuff by the pitcher, but you two are a special case." She walked off with no further explanation.

Harry watched her go with a confused look on his face.

"Does she like us or think we're pathetic?"

"No idea," Malfoy replied, filling his glass and then staring moodily into space.

"Do you want me to go?" Harry finally asked.

"No," Malfoy sighed, "but if you're looking for a sparring match, I'm just not up for it today."

"Seriously, what's wrong?"

Malfoy studied him, debating if confiding in him was acceptable. His reaction didn't surprise or offend Harry. Just the fact that they were seated at the same table without their wands drawn was an improvement from their school days. Malfoy was right to be cautious of him.

"My mother went to see Andromeda this morning," he said, looking down. "She won't change her mind. Andromeda wants my mother to die - her own sister." Tears glistened in his eyes.

"I'm sorry."

"I know the whole world hates us," Malfoy went on. "I deserve that. So does Father. But Mother doesn't. She's never hurt anyone, not really. This shouldn't be happening to her and people are acting like she deserves this, like her life is nothing."

"She doesn't deserve to be sick," Harry said. "She sure as hell doesn't deserve to die and no one has the right to say she does."

"But Andromeda has the ability to sentence her to death."

"I don't know why she's doing it."

"Should I try talking to her?" Malfoy met his eyes, pain etched across his face. "I don't know what I can say that my parents haven't already said."

Harry shook his head. "I think you should stay away from her. You're furious. She's furious. And meeting you would just emphasise the fact that Narcissa's child survived while her daughter died. Putting the two of you together will just make this worse."

"My mother's dying. How much worse can it get?"

"I wish I knew what to tell you. I told Hermione that she refused your father. Ever since she's been obsessed with finding some other way to help your mother."

Malfoy smiled slightly. "Good old, Granger. I think this one is even beyond her. She was amazing at the hospital though. If it wasn't for her, Mother might already be dead."

"She was happy to help. She doesn't wish you or your family any harm. I wish I could help too. Your mother's been through enough. We all have."

Malfoy watched him for a second. There was a spark of hope in his eyes that made Harry uneasy. He didn't know what Malfoy was thinking, but he was afraid he was about to ask for something Harry couldn't give. Harry didn't want to extinguish that hopeful spark.

"You don't think I should talk to Andromeda, but what if you did? You spend time with her. You're her grandson's godfather. You must be close to her. She hates my whole family, but maybe she'll listen to you."

Harry sighed, "Andromeda and I are close. Actually, we've already talked about this. She knows I want her to help your mother. I'm sorry; my opinion didn't count for much. She wouldn't change her mind for me either. I'm sure we'll talk about it again, but I don't think it'll change anything. I'll always try to convince her though."

"Why is she doing this?" Malfoy slammed his glass down, spattering himself with tequila.

"She's hurting. Think about how much pain you're in at the thought of losing your mother. She's already lost her husband and daughter. She's mad. She wants someone to blame and unfortunately it's easy to blame your family."

"Are you seriously defending her?"

Over the years, Malfoy had glared at him many times, but the look on his face now was like nothing he'd ever seen before. A combination of fury, disgust and pain.

"I've already told you, I don't agree with Andromeda," Harry said, looking away from the glare. "I want her to help your mother. I'm in no way supporting her choice, but she's like family to me. I understand that her judgment is clouded by grief."

"You might want to be careful about calling her family. Being Andromeda's family doesn't always end well." Malfoys words were starting to slur.

Harry finished his own drink and poured another.

"She's not evil, Malfoy," he replied and discovered his words didn't sound quite right either. "She cried when your dad left. This isn't easy for her. There's still hope that she'll change her mind."

"Probably cried cause she forgot to kick him in the balls. She was a bitch to him."

"And your father is always so charming."

"He was begging for her help."

Malfoy reached for the pitcher to refill his glass, only to find that it was empty. He tried to refill the glass anyway, before slamming the pitcher down.

"Refill time," Harry announced.

He grabbed the pitcher and got to his feet. The room was spinning. He watched as Malfoy whirled around in his vision. There was no doubt he was drunk, but not as drunk as he'd been the night before, not even close.

His body started to tilt and he was surprised to brush against Malfoy. When had he gotten up? Leaning on each other for balance, they approached the counter together.

"Hey, tequila lady," Harry called. "We're dry."

"Tequila lady," Malfoy repeated.

A few seconds later, the barmaid appeared with a sour expression. She stared at them like they were idiots, which they were - drunken idiots.

"You two drank an entire pitcher of tequila and you want more?" She stared at them in disbelief. "You should be passed out."

"Does that mean no more?" Malfoy asked.

"That means no more," she confirmed. "Unless you want alcohol poisoning."

"And if we say we're willing to risk it?"

"I'm not," she replied. "You two need to leave. Go home and sober up."

"Fine, be a buzzkill," Malfoy muttered. "How much do we owe you?"

At the mention of money, Harry realized he didn't have any Muggle money. He also remembered this happening the night before. Malfoy paid his tab. Damn, he owed Malfoy money.

The barmaid waved them off. "Forget it. Today's my kid sister's birthday and I have to miss her party cause my boss wanted me to tend an empty bar. I figure some missing inventory serves him right."

"You sure?" Malfoy asked.

"Yep. Don't worry about it. Just get yourselves home safely. Are you driving? Do want me to call a cab or something?"

Malfoy stared blankly. Drunk driving was likely a foreign notion to him and the word cab wouldn't be in his vocabulary.

"We're fine," Harry assured her. "He lives close. We can walk. Thanks for the free drinks."

"No problem. Take it easy."

With that she turned and disappeared in back again. Harry and Malfoy started towards the door, still supporting each other.

"Potter, what's a cab?"

Harry laughed. "You are such a pureblood. It's like the Knight Bus, only car size and for Muggles."

Once they were outside the heat of the day hit them. It was like walking into a stream of dragon's breath.

"How are you getting home, Potter? Another portkey?"

Harry stopped in his tracks causing Malfoy to run into him. They managed to regain their balance before landing on the ground.

"I hadn't thought of that," Harry admitted. "I was so mad at Hermione when I left, getting back was the last thing on my mind." He shrugged. "I can probably Apparate. I'm nowhere near as sloshed as I was last night."

"Sure. You can go ahead and splinch yourself. Then you can go to the hospital so Granger can fix you up and you two can have another row. Maybe if you're really lucky, Umbridge Version Two will try to throw you out."

"Aww, Malfoy, I didn't know you cared."

"Look," Malfoy said, ignoring the awkward comment, "there's a motel just up the street. I'm going to get a room and sober up. Mother doesn't need to see me like this. If you'd rather not splinch yourself, you're welcome to join me."

"Yeah," Harry replied. He nodded his head in agreement and found it hard to stop. "I think I'd rather sober up with you than chance having to do it with Hermione."

They started walking again.

"She hit me with a pillow today."

"Poor you. She punched me in the face."

"You kind of deserve it, you know." Harry chuckled.

"All over that bloody chicken. Whatever happened to it? I know you know."

"Buckbeak's back at Hogwarts with Hagrid. And you better leave her alone. She stayed with Sirius while he was alive."

"Bloody chicken."

They entered a small office where a chubby man sat behind a small desk. The man glanced up at them with minimal interest.

"Can we get a room?" Malfoy asked.

Even in his slightly drunken haze, Harry knew that statement didn't sound right. He hid his grin. Malfoy might drink in a Muggle pub, but he was still clueless about Muggles in general.

The man looking slightly more interested and it was all Harry could do not to burst out laughing.

"You want to pay by the hour then?" he asked.

"That'd be great."

Unable to hold back his laughter any longer, Harry lost it. He just couldn't help it. Poor Malfoy had no idea what that man was thinking. Surely Tom at The Leaky Cauldron would think the same thing. Malfoy really should get this. Maybe he was drunker than Harry realized. Unfortunately Harry was just drunk enough to find the whole thing incredibly amusing.

As Malfoy paid the man and retrieved the key, Harry continued to snicker.

"Do you always titter like a little girl when you're shitfaced, Potter?" he asked once they were outside.

"That guy so thought we were checking in for a booty call."

"Well, of course, he did. Two blokes checking in together in the middle of the day. What else would he think? Just because I don't act like a giggling girl over things doesn't mean I don't know what's going on. The hourly rate is better here, but I don't usually get the offer when I'm alone."

Malfoy opened one of the doors and they stumbled inside. Paying no attention to anything, Harry plopped on the single cot and closed his eyes.

"Since when do you care how much anything costs?"

"Since I don't want to explain to Father how I'm spending his money. The less I spend, the less he asks."

"So you come here often?"

"Aren't you inquisitive?"

Harry opened his eyes to see Malfoy seated beside him, watching him. Bloody hell. He was in a motel room with Draco Malfoy. He had a sudden urge to tell Hermione, see how she incorporated that in her plan to save him. Or better yet, he could tell Ginny. Let her make some conspiracy theories.

Malfoy sighed, "If I drink in the daytime, I stay here a few hours before I go home. My drinking irritates Father and upsets Mother. They don't need to see me at my worst, especially not now."

"You're a good son," he mumbled as sleep began to take over.

If Malfoy replied, he didn't hear him.

When Harry opened his eyes again, he had no idea how much time had passed. Malfoy lay beside him, already awake and watching him. That should've made him uncomfortable, but it didn't.

Before he could speak, Malfoy moved towards him, pushing his lips against Harry's. Harry was sober enough to know this was a bad idea. He should've pushed Malfoy away and got the hell out of there, but he didn't want to.

Malfoy's kiss was unexpectedly gentle and even more unexpectedly welcome. Instead of pushing him away, Harry found himself opening his mouth to invite him inside.


	16. Illegal Plots

_When you're weak, I'll be strong_

_When you let go, I'll hold on_

_When you need to cry, I swear that I'll be there to dry your eyes_

_When you feel lost and scared to death,_

_Like you can't take one more step_

_Just take my hand, together we can do it_

_I'm gonna love you through it._

_And when this road gets too long_

_I'll be the rock you lean on_

_Just take my hand, together we can do it_

_I'm gonna love you through it._

_I'm gonna love you through it._

_I'm Gonna Love You Through It ~ Martina McBride_

Before she opened her eyes, Narcissa smelled Lucius' scent and felt his strong arms wrapped around her. A smile spread across her lips as it did every morning she woke in her husband's loving embrace. She felt safe, happy and loved. At least, until she opened her eyes.

Already awake, Lucius was staring down at her with sad grey eyes. One look into those eyes and reality crashed down around her. Her husband no longer looked at her with simple love. Now he looked at her with grief and fear. Was that the only way he'd look at her for the little time she had left?

Even before this, he'd been in so much pain. He never recovered from Azkaban or the war. He blamed himself for every hardship she and Draco endured. How much more hurt could he take?

"Morning," she greeted, stretching to kiss him. "How long have you been awake?"

"Awhile."

"And you stayed in bed? Shouldn't you be torturing yourself over the prophet by now?" She kept her tone light, being careful to hide her concern.

He smiled. "I was watching you sleep."

"How creepy and stalkerish of you," she teased resting her head against his bare chest. "Was I, at least, entertaining? Did I snore or mumble about my secret love for Horance Slughorn?"

Lucius actually laughed. The sound sent shivers of delight through her. She loved his laugh, but rarely heard it these days.

"Horance Slughorn?" he asked. "I swear, I remember you saying something about turning him into a rodent and feeding him the nearest snake. I believe you were upset that Draco wasn't invited to join the Slug Club. Honestly, I'd say Draco lucked out there. Those parties were dreadful."

"Our Draco had ever right to be included in that elitist little club, boring or not. And for the record, I threatened to do far worse things to you, once upon a time."

His fingers trailed through her long hair, tugging gently at loose knots that developed over the night.

"I don't doubt that. You were a hard girl to impress, but worth every bit of the effort." He brushed his lips across her forehead.

"The time you and Severus smuggled a unicorn into the Slytherin Dormitories for my birthday was pretty impressive."

"Your secret lover, Slughorn, was less impressed."

"Was it worth it then?" She raised her head to meet his gaze.

"For you, always."

She cuddled back down, nuzzling his neck. "I love you, Lucy."

"I love you, too," he sighed, "but I don't understand you right now."

Hearing the serious tone in his voice, she held back her own sigh. So much for early morning teasing. So much for putting the bleak future aside and just enjoying her husband. Lucius was done playing.

"What do you want me to do?" she asked. "Cry? Break things? Curse Andromeda with every spell I know?"

"At least, those reactions would make sense to me." He tightened his hold on her as if afraid just talking about this would cause her to be ripped away from him. "Cissa, you should be sad. You should hate your sister. But your acting normal - like this isn't even affecting you."

"Of course, it's affecting me. I don't want to die. I don't want to leave you and Draco, but giving into grief and anger isn't going to change anything. I want the time I have left to be as happy as possible. I want to enjoy being with you and Draco, and I want you both to have good memories of me."

Lucius moved so he could meet her eyes. "You sound like you're giving-up."

"Not giving-up so much as facing reality. Without blood transfusions, I'll die. The Healer was very blunt about that. The Granger girl couldn't even look at me. This is real, Lucius. Andromeda's not donating blood. The end result is inevitable."

"I've been thinking about your charming sister," he replied. "You know, there are ways to get her consent other than asking nicely."

"Lucius." She used her best warning voice, normally reserved for when he was being hard on Draco.

"If ever there was a time for drastic measures, this is it."

"I don't think it's the time for your version of drastic measures, Lucius."

"It's not like I'm suggesting we murder her and remove her blood to be used at our leisure."

"Well, that's a start." She closed her eyes briefly. "So what exactly are you suggesting? And keep in mind, you're talking about my sister. We might have a broken and damaged bond, but I'd never want to see her hurt."

"Too bad she doesn't feel the same way about you."

"She never did." Narcissa was unable to keep the hurt out of her voice.

"The Imperious Curse wouldn't hurt her," Lucius went on quickly. "It'd just make her more agreeable."

"Oh, you just want to use an Unforgivable Curse. That's all," she cried, sitting up and shaking her head. "You avoided Azkaban last time because Harry Potter, of all people, defended you. He's not going to do it again, especially if you go after his godson's grandmother."

"But-"

"No," she cut him off. "Don't even try to tell me you can get away with this. I need numerous transfusions. There's no way of knowing how long you'd have to keep her under the spell. And even if you somehow managed to keep her bewitched until I'm well, she'll run to the Aurors the second the curse is lifted. Even if you obliviate portions of her memory, anyone could figure out what happened. No, Lucius. You're not going back to Azkaban, especially not for me."

"It'd be worth it."

"Not to me."

"Your life is worth more than mine."

"Not to me," she repeated, taking his hands. "I already lived through a year with you in prison. I can't imagine living the rest of my life that way. Please, Lucius, don't do that to me. Promise me, you won't use the Imperious Curse or any other Unforgivable Curse on Andromeda."

He watched her for a few minutes, obviously torn between his desires and hers. Finally he nodded, "All right."

"Promise me."

"I promise not to use any Unforgivable Curse on your evil sister; and I've never lied to you."

"I know."

"There is one other thing that could make her reconsider."

Narcissa sighed. "All right, let's hear it. It can't be any worse than the first one."

Lucius hesitated as if he wasn't so sure about that. Holding her breath, she waited.

"During his time with us, the Dark Lord taught us that our basement makes an excellent dungeon. We could keep her here. Have a Healer do the transfusions here, by force if necessary."

"I take it back. That is worse." She glared at him. "You're not holding my sister captive for months while forcibly drawing her blood. I can't believe I even have to say this. These types of things are supposed to go without saying. She even has an infant to care for. Are you planning on locking him in our basement too?"

"I don't care about her or her daughter's brat," Lucius snapped. "I just want to save you."

"I want to save you, too. Not only does this hurt my sister, but it's just as likely to land you in Azkaban as your last plan. Andromeda's daughter was an Auror. Her ex-partner is now Head of the Auror Department. If Andromeda went missing, it'd be his top priority to find her. And one conversation with Potter or Granger and he'd know exactly where to look. I'm sorry, Lucius, but I'm not letting you go to prison in an attempt to save me. Promise me, you won't do this either."

"Fine. I promise not to imprison your hateful sister in our basement."

"Thank you." She kissed his lips softly. "Now, please, stop dreaming up these illegal plots. There are better things you could be doing with your time."

She flung her leg over his body and pushed herself up so she was straddling him. His body tensed beneath her as she ran her lips across his chest.

"Are you sure you should be doing this?" His face was filled with concern, but she saw a hint of desire hidden there too.

She laughed. "I'm not dead yet."

Taking her face in his hands, he stared at her with an intensity she hadn't seen from him before.

"Don't say that. You're not going to die. I won't lose you. We'll figure this out."

"Lucius."

He shook his head. "This conversation's not over, but right now there's something my wife wants me to do."

Before she even realized what he meant, he expertly rolled them over so he was now on top of her. She started to laugh, but was cut-off when his lips crashed into hers.

"I love you," he whispered before taking her.


	17. Falling

_I'm crazy for you_

_Touch me once and you'll know it's true_

_I never wanted anyone like this_

_It's all brand new, you'll feel it in my kiss_

_I'm crazy for you, crazy for you_

_Crazy For You ~ Madonna_

"Come on, Malfoy. You're being a prat," Draco scolded himself as he paced around his bedroom. Every time he passed the full-length mirror that hung on his wall, he looked at himself with disgust.

He'd spent a year of his life plotting to murder one of the greatest wizards of all-time. Everyone expected him to die. But he didn't. His plan actually worked. Not that he was proud of the part he played in Albus Dumbledore's death, but he was successful, against all the odds. Successful enough to keep his life, at any rate.

Now, only a few years later, he was falling apart. Every day he watched his mother grow weaker while she pretended everything was fine. He watched his father, once his idol, slip further into depression. And, if he was honest with himself, he had to admit that neither he nor his father were the picture of stability even before his mother's illness. They were both forever haunted by the deeds of their past.

But none of that was the worst of it. He didn't look at himself with hatred because he feared for his family. That was acceptable, even if his emotions were getting out of control. No, he hated himself because of the other person who was constantly clouding his mind, taking his focus away from her mother where it belonged.

Bloody Harry Potter.

He'd kissed him. Yes, he was sloshed, but not sloshed enough to use it as an excuse, especially when the kiss had been replaying in his mind for the last week. He'd wanted to snog Potter. Worse, he wanted to do it again. He wanted to do more than that. The damn Chosen One was consuming his thoughts - consuming his life. For the first time, he was unable to control himself and he hated it.

And that still wasn't the worst part of his current predicament. It was bad to find himself obsessing over a man. It was worse that the man happened to be Harry Potter. It was even worse that these idiotic, unavoidable feelings were so obviously one-sided.

He hadn't seen Potter since the kiss. Every night he went to Joe's, hoping Potter would come back, but he never did. Every night he got drunk and stumbled home alone - always alone. This was Potter's way of rejecting him, avoiding him, avoiding the mess Draco made for them both.

Stopping mid-stride, he pierced his lips and glared at himself in the mirror. He looked like a thirty-year-old beggar. If only Pansy could see him now. Even his childhood stalker would have to admit, he was no longer the attractive boy she'd lusted for. Just like his father; he was broken.

Looking away from the offending reflection, he took a deep breath. It was the middle of the day and his parents would be expecting him to make an appearance. He should be spending time with his mother anyway, not pining over damn Harry Potter.

Nodding to himself, he finally left the solitude of his bedroom. As he descended the stairs, he masked his emotions like he'd done so many times before. At least, he still seemed capable of that.

Peering into the sitting room, he was surprised to find it deserted. He nearly always found his parents there in the afternoon. His eyes wandered towards the bar, but he resisted the urge to pour himself a drink. For his mother's benefit, he tried to drink only when she wouldn't know about it.

He continued down the hall, glancing into empty rooms as he went. Finally he found his mother alone in the library, curled on the leather sofa with a book that probably weighed more than she did. He couldn't help but think of Granger, which was surprisingly welcome since it distracted from his other thoughts.

"Morning, sweetheart," she said, gazing up from her book and smiling at him. As always she refrained from pointing out that it was actually afternoon.

"Morning." He forced a smile of his own. "I didn't realize you were reading. I'll leave you to it."

"Don't be silly," she replied, setting the giant book aside. "Come sit with me."

"Where's Father?" he asked as she sat beside her. Lucius hardly left her side these days.

"Sulking in his study."

Draco chuckled, although he wasn't amused. "Is he still coming up with schemes to maim, torture or curse Andromeda into donating blood?"

"He is." She shook her head. "He's getting pretty creative about it, too. One of his most recent suggestions involved having a dragon brought over from Romania."

"Sounds reasonable."

"Of course."

"I'm not sure Father's entirely wrong about this," Draco said, knowing it wasn't what his mother wanted to hear. "I mean, he's entirely wrong about the dragon; that's mental, but I think he's right about forcing Andromeda's hand. If she's going to be cruel and irrational, we can't just let her treat you like this. So what if Father breaks a few laws? It'll be worth it to have you healthy again."

Narcissa sighed, running her fingers through her hair. "Draco, please, don't you start this, too."

"Father just wants to help you," he insisted. "He doesn't want to lose you and neither do I." Tears formed in his eyes, but he blinked them away.

"Draco, I don't want to leave you either, but that doesn't make it okay for Lucius to hurt Andromeda and risk his freedom. You saw what Azkaban did to him. Do you really want to risk him being sent back?"

"Of course not," Draco replied. "I could do it. I could take the risk."

"Absolutely not. You've been through more than enough trying to protect me and your father. I don't want you to do anything, Draco. Just be with me. That's the best thing you can do for me right now."

He slid his arm around her tiny shoulders.

"I'll always be here," he promised.

"I know, sweetheart. I can always count on you."

They sat silently, cuddled close together. The silence was unwelcome and Draco's mind began to focus on its favorite topics. He saw himself kissing Potter. He saw his mother bleeding in his father's arms. The two images repeated in his thoughts, reminding him that he couldn't escape.

"What's wrong?" Narcissa finally asked, resting her head on his shoulder. She was probably getting tired. Her energy level decreased daily.

"I'm worried about you," he said. It was true, after all.

"I know, sweetheart. I'm sorry I have to put you through this. I know what's happening to me is hurting you, but something else is going on. For the last week or so, you've been distracted and distressed, more so than usual. You're trying to hide it, but I'm your mother. I know you. What's going on, Draco?"

Of course, she knew. It was foolish of him to think he could hide his feelings from her. All his life, he hid his feelings from everyone without difficulty - everyone except his mother. She read his hidden moods like they were written all over his face.

She watched him, waiting for him to open up to her like he'd done in the past, but he couldn't do it. He couldn't tell her that he'd kissed Potter and couldn't get him out of his head. He was unable to deal with that. How could he ask her to? Besides, as long as she was ill, the focus needed to be on her.

Deep down, Draco wasn't sure if he wanted to protect his mother or himself. He didn't want to upset her, but he didn't want her to look at him differently either.

"There's nothing going on, Mother." The lie tasted bitter in his mouth. He hated lying to her. "I just want to see you healthy again. That's all."

"Okay, sweetheart." Her voice was sad and he knew she didn't believe his lie. Guilt gnawed at him. The last thing he wanted was to hurt her.

She took his hand. "Just know that you can talk to me about anything. I may be ill, but I'm still your mother. I love you, Draco."

"I love you, too."


	18. About Saving A Life

_And all I really want is some patience_

_A way to calm the angry voice_

_And all I really want is deliverance_

_Do I wear you out?_

_You must wonder why I'm so relentless and all strung out_

_I'm consumed by the chill of solitary_

_I'm like Estella_

_I like to reel it in and then spit it out_

_I'm frustrated by your apathy_

_And I am frightened by the corrupted ways of this land_

_If only I could meet the Maker_

_All I Really Want ~ Alanis Morissette_

Andromeda sat on the sofa pretending to read while she watched Harry and Teddy playing on the floor. Her grandson giggled happily as he grabbed at the toy snitch Harry brought him. There was no doubt Harry'd teach him with a real snitch long before he started at Hogwarts. Like his godfather, he might even make Seeker in his first year.

While Teddy played, Harry watched him. Love shone in his eyes, but he couldn't even muster a genuine smile, which was something Teddy always managed to bring out in him. Something was bothering him - more so than usual.

"Yay, Teddy Bear," Harry cheered when Teddy's pudgy hand closed around the snitch. "You're a natural. Your mum and dad would be so proud."

Andromeda's eyes moistened at the mention of Dora and Remus. They would be proud of little Teddy. They should be there to be proud of him. She loved her grandson fiercely, but she was no replacement for two doting parents. Little Teddy had been cheated, just like his godfather - by the same evil people.

Wiping her eyes, she looked back to the duo on the floor of her living room. Teddy still clutched the snitch, unwilling to let his new toy fly away again. So many things had already flown out of his fragile grasp. He climbed into Harry's lap, curling into a ball, holding the snitch like a stuffed animal.

"You sleepy, little man?" Harry asked. From the sound of his voice it was obvious Teddy wasn't the only sleepy one in the room. "You want me to put you down for a nap?"

"Nap," Teddy said, nodding happily.

That was one thing about Teddy that still managed to shock her. Despite the many traits he shared with his mother, his opinion on naptime wasn't among them. Teddy never refused a nap and often requested one. Dora, on the other hand, screamed and cried at the very mention of the N word.

Holding Teddy in his arms, Harry got to his feet. For the first time, he seemed awkward and out of place in her home. Clinging to Teddy like he was his only anchor in the world, Harry turned towards her. She almost gasped at the expression on his face. It was like he was looking at a stranger - a stranger he wasn't sure he could trust. They'd always had such a great relationship, instantly bonding over Teddy. What was going on with him?

"Is it all right if I put him down?"

His voice was cold and the question was ridiculous. Harry knew her home as well as she did. He always wandered freely. The last time he asked her permission to do something was during his second visit. That was the way she liked it. She didn't consider Harry a guest and she didn't want him to feel that way. He was the closest thing she had to family besides Teddy.

"Of course, it's all right," she replied, not even trying to hide her confusion.

Nodding stiffly, he left the room with Teddy, who'd fallen asleep in his arms.

This was getting stranger by the minute. It was almost like he was mad at her, but she couldn't imagine why. They didn't row - ever. And Teddy was still too young for those awful parenting conversations she was bound to share with him. What had him so upset?

When Harry returned his arms were empty and he looked miserable. Without Teddy to lift his spirits, he looked like his owl just died. She was used to a certain amount of sadness from him, but this was a whole new level.

"Teddy's asleep," he said without looking at her. "I should go."

"Why don't you stay?" she said, trying to sound cheerful and warm. "We can have tea and talk. It's always nice to talk to someone with a full vocabulary."

_And, maybe if I get you trapped in a social situation, you'll tell me what the hell is wrong with you,_ she thought.

"I don't know." The expression on his face told her that he was already feeling trapped. "I'm not sure I'd be very good company. I've been rowing with Hermione and dealing with some really unexpected stuff. Mostly I just brood these days. Books make it sound sexy, but it's not."

"Then brood with me," she insisted.

Harry sighed. He looked like an Azkaban prisoner awaiting the dementor's kiss.

"Sure," he replied, shrugging. "Actually, tea sounds great. I hardly bother to make it myself."

While she made the tea, Harry settled himself at the kitchen table. He didn't speak. When she glanced in his direction, he was staring out the window. He hadn't been lying about the brooding thing.

She poured them both tea and sat down across from him. Sipping his tea in silence, he still refused to look at her. Having limited patience and tact, she decided it was time to try a more direct approach.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Talk about what?" He sat the cup down and finally looked at her.

"Whatever has you so upset? Why you're mad at me? Take your pick." Her voice sounded angrier than she intended, but she was so frustrated with his bizarre behavior that she really didn't care.

"No, I really don't want to talk about my fucked-up life. And I'm not mad at you. Why would you think that?"

"Oh, I don't know," she snapped. "Maybe because you're hardly looking at me or speaking to me. Or maybe it's because you're suddenly asking permission to do things you've been doing for over a year."

Harry stared into his cup. Hell, she'd hurt his feelings, which was the last thing she wanted to do. Sometimes she just wasn't great at holding her tongue.

"I'm sorry," he said at last. "I'm really not mad, at least, not at you. I didn't mean to be a git. Friends?"

"Of course, we're friends," she replied. "And you know you can talk to me about Hermione or anything else."

"You can talk to me, too. I know you're used to having Ted to confide in and I'm a poor substitute, but you must be going through hell with this stuff about your sister."

Narcissa? He'd been in her house for over an hour, sulking about some unnamed problem, and when he gets a chance to talk about it, he'd rather discuss Narcissa. Wonderful. As if dealing with Lucius and Narcissa wasn't bad enough, she didn't want to talk about them too.

"I'm fine, Harry," she lied. "The Malfoys know I can't help them. It's over."

"You're not even thinking about helping her. She's dying."

"It's not that simple, Harry." She looked down. "You know how I feel about this. I know you don't agree, but I thought you accepted my decision."

"I thought you might change your mind," he admitted quietly. "You were upset when we talked before. You'd just learned that Narcissa was sick. And the fact that Lucius was the one to ask for your help just made the whole situation worse. I get that you don't like the guy. I don't think anyone does. But this isn't about him. It's about saving a life."

"Saving the life of someone who supported the death of my family. I know you've forgiven the Malfoys for what they did to you and your friends, but I haven't. I can't."

"So you're just going to let your sister die then?"

"Why does everyone keep calling her that?" Andromeda cried, unwelcome tears threatening to spill from her eyes. "Fine. Genetically, she's my sister. I've never denied that. She's the one who disowned me. I was just an embarrassment to her perfect bloodline. She hated my Mudblood husband and my half-blood daughter. Now they're dead. Narcissa Malfoy is no sister to me, not in any way that matters."

Harry looked right at her, eyes blazing with fury. "You keep talking about Dora, Ted and even Remus. You act like Narcissa killed them. She didn't. Letting a woman die is no way to honor them. I didn't know Ted very well, but he was a kind man. Remus could forgive anyone anything. I've seen him do it. And Dora, your beautiful daughter. I've never met anyone more full of life or love. She was an amazing woman, always ready to help anyone. You're family wouldn't want you to do this, least of all Dora."

Glaring at him, she knew the look of fury on her face far surpassed his. At first, she couldn't even think of words to express her anger.

"What right do you have to tell me what my family would want? You knew Dora for three years. I'm her mother. I raised her. You met my husband once. You don't get to decide how I honor them. You don't get to decide if I give blood to Narcissa."

Harry looked taken aback - ashamed - but it did nothing to calm her temper.

"I think you should go," she said, amazed that she was able to make her voice sound calm. "The next time you come to see Teddy; we'll pretend this conversation never happened."

Looking terrified, Harry fled from her house. Once the door closed behind him, she allowed the tears to stream down her face.

She was so mad at him. He was rude. He was insensitive. He was condescending. Worst of all, he might've been right.


	19. I Fall to Pieces

_I still feel the same way I did when I was seventeen,  
I still look over my shoulder, waiting for the world to change._

_But these are the good old days_  
_These are the good old days_  
_These are the good old days_  
_and I think I'd like to stay_  
_Oh, I'd like to stay_  
_Oh, I'd like to stay_

_Good Old Days ~ Pink_

Sipping a cup of black coffee, Hermione moved slowly through the halls of St. Mungos. The drink was disgusting. She hated coffee, but it was said to have more caffeine than tea, and she needed all the wake-up help she could get after a night of tossing and turning, thinking about Ron. She could almost handle the days without him, but the nights were hell.

Yawning loudly, she slipped into the staff room, hoping to finish her gross coffee before she was needed on the floor. As soon as she opened the door, she heard familiar sobs.

Seated in the far corner of the deserted room, Susan was curled into a ball, crying into her knees.

"What's wrong?" Hermione asked, hurrying towards her friend.

Susan looked up at her with red eyes. "Toadface," she blurted.

"Well, everything about Toadface is wrong," Hermione replied, trying to lighten the mood as she sat beside Susan. "What's she done now? Is she murdering kittens? Plotting world domination?"

Susan snorted through her tears and Hermione took that as a good sign. Maybe this would be an easy to fix problem, unlike every other problem she'd ever dealt with.

"She's threatening to sack me."

This time, Hermione laughed. Of all the ridiculous things.

"That's mad," she replied. "What possible reason could she have for sacking you? You're brilliant at your job. And, unlike me, you don't row with her daily. If she wants to sack someone, it's bound to be me. She can make a valid claim of insubordination, but with you, she has no cause."

"She can't sack you," Susan said, wiping her tears. "You're the ultimate war heroine. Rita Skeeter'd crucify her in the paper."

"Rita Skeeter crucifies everyone in the paper, including me when she gets the chance." Hermione shrugged. "Not much of a threat there. Anyway, don't worry about it; she's not going to sack either of us. She knows I'd make a big scene and call her out on all the horrible things she does around here. In the end, she'd probably win, but it's not worth the effort for her. She's just a bully, Susan. She wanted to upset you, but that's all she's going to do."

"You're sure?"

"Positive."

Hermione was trying and failing to think of something humorous to say when the door opened and Bulstrode stuck her head in.

"There you are, Miss. Granger," she said with obvious relief. "One of the Weasley boys is here, the one with the joke shop. He's blown three of his fingers off and is refusing to be treated by anyone other than you. The fool was clutching his fingers and bleeding all over the exam room floor when I left."

"I better take care of that," Hermione said to Susan. "You okay now?"

"Fine. I actually feel kind of stupid."

"Don't. Toadface can out-bully Malfoy any day, and that's saying something. Just stay here until you're feeling better and then go do your job. Remember, she can't hurt you unless you let her and she can't sack you unless you give her a reason."

"Miss. Granger," Bulstrode interrupted, "while your pep talk is very inspirational, Mr. Weasley is still bleeding out while waiting for you."

"Yes, of course." She turned her full attention to the older Healer. "Where is he?"

"Second floor, room 112." As she turned to leave, she added, "And if you happen to see Toadface on your way down there, walk in the other direction. That boy can only lose so much blood."

Hermione hurried out the door after Bulstrode and rushed downstairs. For once, luck was on her side since she didn't as much as glimpse Toadface.

Bursting into room 112, she found George exactly as Bulstrode described him, sitting in a pool of his own blood, using one hand to hold three of his fingers from the other hand. Chills went through her as she remembered the night he lost his ear.

Looking over at her, he forced a brief smile, but it disappeared when he grimaced in pain. His skin was pale. He'd obviously lost a lot of blood. Why did all of her patients have to be bleeding lately?

"Hey, Granger," he said through gritted teeth. "A little help?"

Waving her wand over the potions' cabinet to open it, she shot George an annoyed glare. "If you'd let someone else tend you, you'd be all fixed-up by now. It's fine to request me when you have the flu, but if you're bleeding, take whatever help you can get."

She grabbed a pain potion from the cabinet and handed it to George in exchange for his severed fingers. While he gulped the potion, she stood awkwardly with his fingers in her hand.

"That feels better," he said with a genuine smile as he sat the empty vial aside. "Thanks, Granger. And, of course, I asked for you. Figured the only way I'd get to see you was by blowing part of myself up."

Hermione laid his injured hand flat on the cot and placed the fingers where they rightly belonged. After a few incantations, they were as good as new. George flexed his hand with a wide grin.

"You're a genius, Hermione."

"Well, I won't be giving you that title any time soon," she replied. "How'd you manage to sever your fingers in the first place?"

"Just something I was working on for the store. It's time for some new products." He shrugged. "So how have you been, Hermione? I see all your fingers are attached so that can't be your excuse for never visiting or writing. I miss you. You and Harry both."

Hermione sighed. Just what she needed, a guilt trip about abandoning Ron's family. Well, she certainly deserved it. She couldn't remember the last time she'd seen any of them. With Ron gone and Harry and Ginny broken-up, it was just awkward.

"I've been busy with work," she said, "and Harry's been busy discovering the bottom of Firewhisky bottles."

She returned to the potions' cabinet and grabbed another vial before locking it again. Handing the vial to George she sat across from him.

"What's this?"

"Goblin piss," she muttered, remembering Mad-Eye with a fond smile.

George's eyes lit with mischievous delight. "You stock that? Can I have some for the store?"

"Funny," she replied. "It's Blood-Replenishing Potion. You lost a lot of blood waiting for me. Drink it."

"Bossy as ever," George teased before dumping the contents of the vial in his mouth. He scrunched his face up like he'd taken a dose of U-No-Poo. "That's awful. Are you sure it wasn't goblin piss?"

Hermione snapped her fingers. "Drat, I think I gave you Professor Slughorn's urine sample by mistake."

George laughed. "When did you a sense of humor, Granger?"

The question caught her off guard. She was joking with him and she hadn't even realized it. Chatting with George felt normal. She felt normal.

"Around the time this loony red-head showed-up with three missing fingers," she replied honestly.

"Then I'm happy to help." He saluted her with his recently re-attached fingers.

"It's nice seeing you," she said. "Even without all your body parts attached."

"I meant what I said." He turned serious. "I miss you. How am I supposed to know everything I do wrong without you to tell me?" He grinned, assuring her that he was kidding. "You should come by the store. I'll give you a free Umbridge doll. Speaking of, I swear, I saw her here. Must've been a pain hallucination or something. Sure was creepy though."

"I wish it was a hallucination," Hermione replied. "You saw Umbridge, all right. Sylvia Umbridge, known as Toadface to the entire St. Mungos staff. She's Dolores' sister and they're exactly alike. She's my boss."

"That's a sad story," George replied.

"It is," Hermione agreed. "Anyway, as must as I'd love to hide in here and chat, I have to get back to work. There could be other nutters out there with missing fingers, waiting for me to come to the rescue."

"And you can't disappoint." George got to his feet. "Thanks, Hermione and I meant what I said about coming to visit."

"I will."

A pang of guilt hit her as she watched George heading down the hall. She'd lied to him. She'd never go to his store. Without Ron, it just wasn't right.


	20. The Gryffindor and the Slytherin

_If you're ready, I'm willing and able_

_Help me lay my cards out on the table_

_You're mine and I'm yours for the taking_

_Right now the rules we made are meant for breaking_

_What you get ain't always what you see_

_But satisfaction's guaranteed_

_They say what you give is always what you need_

_So if you want me to lay my hands on you_

_Lay your hands on me, lay your hands on me, lay your hands on me,_

_Lay your hands on me, lay your hands on me, lay your hands on me,_

_Lay your hands on me_

_Lay Your Hands On Me ~ Bon Jovi_

Sitting at the kitchen table, Harry was enjoying his first Firewhisky of the evening. Despite Hermione's threats, he was, once again, drinking in the privacy of his own home. For the sake of all other human beings, he decided solitary confinement was best for him. Every time he had contact with another person it ended badly - for them.

Hermione, Andromeda, Draco: he'd hurt them all. He couldn't have a conversation with Hermione that didn't turn into a row and she only wanted to help. There was no way to describe the cruel things he's said to Andromeda. He was lucky she didn't punch him in the face. And then there was Draco - the worst of all. He'd bothered Draco when he was at his worst, traumatized over his mother's fatal diagnosis. Somehow their conversations led to a drunken kiss that Draco would have to live with for the rest of his life.

Slamming the glass on the table, he tried to forget about Draco. Why was the beguiling blonde still stuck in his head? Why did he want to return to Joe's just to see if Draco was there waiting for him?

"Of course, he wouldn't be waiting for you, you prat," he muttered to himself. "That'd be like you standing in the middle of the Chamber of Secrets waiting for the Basilisk to kill you."

Just thinking about Draco like that was unfair to him. He got drunk and kissed him. So what? That didn't mean he owed Harry anything. And the last thing Harry needed to do was lurk around Draco's local reminding him of his shameful mistake. Draco had enough to deal with.

He was getting up to refill his glass when there was a soft knock at his door. He sighed. Only two people were masochistic enough to come to his flat: Hermione and Andromeda. Hermione Apparated inside. Andromeda knocked. She must be worried that he hadn't come to see Teddy. After the scene he caused during his last visit, he thought she'd be relieved he hadn't been back.

Sitting his empty glass down, he approached the door. The last thing he wanted to do was face Andromeda, but he knew she wouldn't give-up and go away, especially if Teddy had been asking for him.

"I'm sorry," he said, flinging the door opened. "I was totally out of li-" He stopped mid-sentence as he stared into grey eyes, framed by blonde hair. "You're not Andromeda."

"What was your first clue?"

Harry could tell his visitor was trying to sound snarky, but his voice broke, revealing his nervousness.

Shaking his head, Harry tried to get over his own nervousness. The man who'd consumed his thoughts for days was standing in front of him and he had no idea why.

"Um…come in," he finally said, motioning Draco inside.

He led him into his tiny living room, and waited for him to sit. Draco chose the easy-chair as opposed to the sofa, probably so Harry couldn't get too close. What the hell was Draco Malfoy doing in his living room?

"You want a drink?" he asked, standing awkwardly in the doorway.

"Yeah," Draco replied, not looking at him. "That'd be great."

Harry stated towards his bedroom, moving slowing. He realized he was slightly unsteady on his feet. There was no way to know if his new-found inability to walk properly was because Draco was in his flat or because he was damn confused about Draco being in his flat. Either way, he knew it was Draco's fault.

"Where are you going?" Draco asked. His expression was hurt. Did he think Harry was going to climb out the window and run away? "We passed the kitchen - from the other direction."

Harry grinned. "I keep my alcohol in my bedroom closet under the Invisibility Cloak, in case of Hermione. Why don't you grab us a couple of glasses since you clearly know where my kitchen is?"

"Yeah, sure." He sounded uncomfortable and looked away from Harry's gaze.

In his bedroom, Harry ignored the half-empty bottle of Firewhisky, grabbing the full one. This was bound to be a smoother night if alcohol was readily available. He wasn't worried about keeping the bottle out of sight in the living room. If Hermione made an appearance, she'd be far more interested in Draco's presence than a bottle of Firewhisky. Not that he had any way of explaining him to her. He couldn't even explain him to himself.

When Harry returned to the living room, Draco was back on the chair, clutching a glass so tightly his fingers paled. Another glass sat on the small coffee table between the chair and the sofa. It took all his concentration not to spill as he filled the two glasses before sitting on the sofa to stare at his unexpected guest.

"So," he said, desperately searching his mind for something to say. "How's your mother?"

"Getting weaker," Draco replied, taking a drink from the shaking glass in his hand. At least, he wasn't afraid Harry would try to poison him.

"I'm sorry."

"I know you are," Draco sighed, "and I really appreciate it since you seem to be in the minority. That Umbridge look-a-like thinks she deserves to die." Tears glistened in his eyes, but he batted them away. "Speaking of people who want to see my mother dead, why'd you think I was Andromeda?"

"You knocked."

"What was I supposed to do, sing Hail Merlin?"

"Andromeda knocks. Hermione pops in. No one else comes."

"You'd think the Chosen One would have more friends."

"You'd think the Slytherin Prince would have better things to do than grace me with his presence."

Draco emptied his glass before he replied, "I'm no prince."

Harry offered him the bottle, but he shook his head.

"Thanks, but I didn't come here to get drunk. I can do that all by myself."

"Why are you here?" Harry asked, sitting his half-empty glass on the coffee table. "Not that I don't want you here or anything like that. I just never expected Draco Malfoy to show-up at my flat."

"I owe you an apology," he said, "and don't be a git about it. This isn't easy for me. I'm sorry I kissed you. It was completely inappropriate. I just want you to know that I didn't plan it. When I suggested we check-in to that motel to sober up that's all I intended to do. The rest just happened. I swear."

Harry stared. He hadn't been expecting this.

"I never thought you planned it. And you don't have to be sorry about it, at least, not on my behalf."

"You mean, you don't regret it?" Draco looked at him with an unreadable expression.

Was this some kind of prank? Did Draco want him to admit he was attracted to him just so he could mock and reject him? That was the type of thing Draco might've enjoyed at Hogwarts, but a lot had changed since then - maybe even Draco.

He had no idea what to say. He didn't even know what the truth was. A few minutes ago, he regretted the kiss because he assumed Draco regretted it. Now it was hard to regret something that made him feel alive when he'd felt dead inside for so long.

"Draco, I don't think we should talk about this." The only true words he felt safe sharing.

Eyebrows raised, Draco started at him.

"You called me Draco."

Shit. He hadn't meant to do that. He was giving too much away.

"Sorry. It won't happen again."

"No, I like it," Draco said quickly, smiling. "Not many people have ever used my name. I'm just Malfoy, not on friendly terms with anyone. It's nice to hear it."

"Well, I think our relationship has a certain amount of familiarity, if not consistency. We've bullied each other, nearly killed each other, saved each other's lives and snogged." Harry laughed, shaking his head. "I think we're good to switch to a first name basis."

"When you put it that way." Draco smiled.

As he watched Draco, Harry felt something inside him stir. They were getting too comfortable with each other and the feelings he'd been burying since the kiss were beginning to resurface. He was even beginning to question the necessity of hiding these unexpected urges. He expected Draco to be hateful and ashamed, but if he felt those things, would be sitting in Harry's living room?

"Harry, what's wrong?" Draco looked at him with what appeared to be genuine concern. What the hell was happening here? Their whole dynamic was shifting. It was almost scary.

Hearing his name uttered from Draco's lips gave him a rush of pleasure. He wondered if this was what his old rival felt when he said Draco for the first time only a few minutes earlier.

"If my being here is a problem, I can go," Draco went on. "I know I had no right to come."

"No," Harry blurted out, louder than he intended. "You don't have to go. I didn't mean to zone out like that." He forced a smile. "I'm usually drunk off my arse by now. My mind's having trouble assimilating." He doubted lack of alcohol was the only thing his mind was struggling to make sense of, but decided not to mention that.

"You were thinking about the kiss, weren't you?" Draco watched him closely as if trying to read his thoughts.

Taking a deep breath, Harry closed his eyes briefly, still unsure what to admit it and what to keep hidden.

"You're not going to let this go, are you?"

"No."

"Why don't you tell me how you feel about it then?" He sounded angry, but was really just desperate to avoid admitting the truth.

"I'm the cowardly Slytherin and you're the big, brave Gryffindor." Draco smirked at his own joke.

"Cute."

"I do work out, you know."

Harry rolled his eyes. "You really want to talk about the kiss? Fine. I'll tell you the truth. I'm already a broke, unemployed alcoholic. What have I got left to lose if you're playing with me? Snogging you was great, Draco. I loved the feel of your lips on mine. I haven't been able to stop thinking about you since it happened. Happy?"

At first, Draco just gaped at him. Then he opened and closed his mouth as if unable to form words. The scene was surprisingly adorable. Harry struggled not to laugh. After all these years, he'd finally broken Draco Malfoy. Surely, his father would hear about this.

"Are you messing with me?" he finally managed to ask.

Again, Harry rolled his eyes. Draco was thicker than he ever realized.

"Yes," he sighed, shaking his head. "I frequently lie to put myself in vulnerable and potentially humiliating situations."

"Then why didn't you come back?" Draco looked like a sad little boy and Harry was caught off-guard.

"I-I didn't think you'd want to see me," he stammered, looking away from the soulful grey eyes piercing his heart.

"You prat," Draco cried. "I kissed you, remember? I wasn't that pissed. I made a choice to do it because I wanted to. I knew it was stupid. I thought you'd hate me for it. Then you disappeared, just like I expected."

"If I did what you expected, why'd you come here?"

Draco hesitated, looking uncomfortable. It was one thing for Harry to blurt out his feelings. He'd done it all his life. Draco was naturally more private and cautious. Harry struggled to discuss this; Draco had to be going through hell.

"I missed you, all right," he said, staring down at the floor. "A big part of me wants more than friendship from you, but I knew that was mental. When I chased you away, I thought things would go back to normal, which they did. I'd just forgotten how much normal sucked. My mother's dying and you're the only person in the world I have to talk to. I've finally found something that I can't handle on my own. So I came here to apologize. Having you as a friend is better than not having you at all. And I can't believe I just said that out-loud. You're a horrible influence on me. I sound like a total sap."

Harry was less surprised by Draco's words than he expected. The whole evening was leading up to this. Now they both knew the truth. They wanted the same thing, as mental as that was.

Not allowing himself to think about the possible consequences, he moved across the room and settled himself on the arm of the chair where Draco was sitting. Draco watched him as he leaned over pressing their lips together. Draco's mouth opened for him and he slid inside. He shivered as they pushed desperately against each other.

"You can have more," he whispered when he finally found the strength to pull back. "You can have all of me. You can have whatever you want."

He took Draco's hand and pulled the dazed blonde to his feet, leading him across the room, towards his bedroom. Draco didn't say anything, but clung tightly to Harry's hand as if afraid it could be ripped away at any moment. Squeezing back, Harry tried to assure him, without words, that he wasn't going anywhere. Even under the circumstances, it was strange to see him so vulnerable - so human. He knew this was something Draco normally kept hidden and he was honored to see this side of him.

Leading him to the bed, Harry lay down, pulling Draco on top of him. Their lips met again, more fiercely than before. Responding to instinct rather than reason, Harry allowed his hand to wander under Draco's shirt, trailing his fingers along his chest before pulling the shirt loose and tossing it aside.

When Draco responded in kind, Harry's body tensed, preparing for sensations it had long been denied. He trailed his lips down Draco's bare chest just enjoying the feel of his body and the taste of him.

While Harry continued to kiss his chest, Draco easily freed them both from their trousers, allowing his hands to venture lower, feeling Harry's hardness. At his touch, convulsions went through Harry. He pulled away enough to reposition himself so he could feel Draco next to his errection. Draco groaned in anticipation, feeling how close Harry was to being inside him.

After nibbling Draco's ear, he whispered, "Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Yes," he moaned.

Draco muttered a lubrication spell and Harry thrust himself inside without the benefit of further preparation. Draco whimpered, obviously trying to hide the pain Harry was inflicting.

Tensing, Harry stopped moving. This moment had been playing out in his fantasies for days and when it really happened, he fucked up. He was impulsive and rough; he'd hurt Draco, which was the last thing he wanted to do.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, massaging Draco's shoulders. "I didn't mean to hurt you. Do you want me to stop?"

"Fuck no," he cried, bucking into Harry to emphasise his point.

Grinning, Harry continued, but at a slower, more gentle pace. Now the sounds coming from Draco indicated pleasure rather than pain. When he felt himself near release, he reached around Draco, taking his errection in his hands. They came together.

After a quick cleaning spell, Harry found himself tired, but happier than he'd been in a long time. He settled into Draco's arms, breathing in the scent of sex mixed with spice. He sighed with contentment.

He didn't know how much time had passed when Draco moved beside him, kissing his forehead.

"I have to go."

"Okay," Harry replied, trying to conceal his hurt. They couldn't even spend the night together.

Draco slid from the bed, dressing quickly, without so much as glancing at his lover. He did, however, stop in the doorway and look back. When their eyes met, Harry was overwhelmed with fear. Did he finally realize this was a mistake? Was that why he was leaving?

"You'll come back, right?" He hated the hint of pleading in his voice.

Raising his eyebrows, Draco smiled. He strode back to the bed and kissed Harry softly.

"I'll come back for as long as you'll have me."


	21. The Inevitable

_You and me_

_We used to be together_

_Everyday together always_

_I really feel_

_That I'm losing my best friend_

_I can't believe_

_This could be the end_

_It looks as though you're letting go_

_And if it's real_

_Well I don't want to know_

_Don't Speak ~ No Doubt_

Morning was now Narcissa's least favorite time of the day. Gone were the days of morning sex. Gone were the days of any sex. She hardly had the energy to tackle the overwhelming number of stairs in the manor let alone make love to her husband. Just another way she was letting Lucius down. Tears filled her eyes at the thought, but she quickly wiped them away.

She walked past Draco's room, seeing the door firmly shut. There was little chance of seeing him for a few more hours. She paused outside the door. Draco was worrying her. Over the past few weeks, he seemed to be drinking less, but was acting secretive and nervous. He was hiding something and she was terrified it was something that would hurt him in the long run.

Brushing her fingers along the door frame, she grimaced, knowing that was as close to her son as she could get for the time being - possibly as close to his secret as she'd ever get. She continued towards the stairs, planning to search the main floor for Lucius. Whatever Draco was hiding would eventually develop into something. If she couldn't be there to help him through it, she'd make sure Lucius was.

Halfway down the stairs, she stopped, leaning against the banister as she tried to catch her breath. This was ridiculous. Soon she'd be as feeble as a newborn, depending on Lucius and Draco for everything. The thought made her ill. She didn't want them to see her like that. She didn't want to be a burden to the ones she loved.

Before her bleak thoughts could consume her mind, she started forward again, moving at the speed of a woman fifty years her senior. As she drew near the bottom of the steps, the scent of bacon and eggs reached her nostrils. Her stomach rumbled. At least, she still had an appetite.

The fact that Lucius was cooking was hardly surprising. Since losing their house-elf many years earlier, the job of meal preparation fell to him. She and Draco both attempted cooking, but had the same dreadful aptitude for it. After several horrible meals and one minor fire, Lucius took over the kitchen with little complaint. Although he may have done it simply to avoid food poisoning.

When she entered the kitchen, Lucius greeted her with a smile. He looked tired, thinner than he was before her diagnosis. She was causing him so much pain and she hated it.

"You're up," he said. "I was going to bring you breakfast in bed."

Standing on her tip-toes, she kissed his cheek. "Well, aren't you sweet?"

"It happens from time to time." He shrugged. "Just don't tell anyone."

"All your secrets are safe with me."

He pulled her into his arms, kissing her forehead. Despite the fact that she could no longer be with him sexually, he was as affectionate and attentive as ever. Even with his many schemes, she was lucky to have him.

"Everything's ready," he told her. "You want to head into the dining room?"

Glancing towards the small table in the corner of the room, she shook her head. "Let's stay here. It's cozy."

Craning his neck back so he could look at her, he raised his eyebrows. "And since when do you chose cozy over elegant?"

"Since I just want to be close my gorgeous, loving husband. Do you mind?"

"Of course not," he replied, letting go of her so he could tend the food. "Whatever you like, Narcissa. Go sit then. I'll bring you a plate."

She seated herself at the table, realizing it was the first time she'd ever used it. Why was it even there? Must've been something her father-in-law had for his servants.

Lucius placed a large plate of food and a cup of tea in front of her and then sat beside her with the same portion for himself. He was close enough that their legs touched and she loved even the small amount of contact.

"Thanks," she said, taking a forkful of scrambled eggs. Delicious as always. "You know, traditionally, it's the wife's job to cook. Don't you ever feel cheated?"

He smirked. "Actually, my dear, in our families, it was tradition for the house-elf to cook. Since I lost ours, it's only fair that I should take on the responsibility. And I have never felt cheated when it comes to you, Narcissa."

Not wanting the conversation to turn serious over breakfast, she replied, "I believe Harry Potter had something to do with Dobby's great escape, too."

"Bloody Potter," Lucius muttered between bites. "I honestly don't know if I'm supposed to hate that kid or be grateful to him."

"I suspect he feels the same way about us. He has a rather complicated history with our family. I wonder if it affects his relationship with Andromeda."

Lucius dropped his fork, allowing it clatter on his plate. He glared at her, genuine anger in his eyes.

"Don't say that bitch's name," he growled.

"Lucius, she's still my sister."

"Not according to her," he replied, calming enough to return to his meal. "And not according to me. No one would treat their sister the way she's treated you. If you won't allow me to change her mind by force, at least, do me the courtesy of not taunting me with her existence. She should've been the one to get sick. You share the same bloodline."

"I'd have helped her," Narcissa said quietly.

"I know," Lucius replied, squeezing her leg.

They continued eating in silence. Narcissa's stomach was tight with knots, but she kept eating anyway. So much for keeping the breakfast conversation light. Now Lucius was going to be cranky when she brought up Draco. Wonderful.

When the plates were cleared, Lucius waved his wand and they disappeared, cleaned and back in the cupboard where they belonged. If she was going to talk to him, she had to do it now, before he wandered off to read the bloody prophet.

"We need to talk about Draco," she said, folding her hands and turning to face him.

"Why?" he sighed. "What's he done now?"

"Why do you always assume the worst of him?" she snapped. "He's your son, Lucius. You're supposed to love and support him."

"I do love him." He looked hurt that she'd suggest otherwise. "You know that."

"I do, but sometimes I wonder if Draco does. You're so hard on him and I can see that it hurts him. You're his father, Lucius. He needs to know that he'll always have your support."

"Of course, he has my support," he said, eying her closely. "Narcissa, what's this about? Is Draco in some kind of trouble?"

"Not that I know of," she assured him. "I'm just concerned about after I'm gone. Draco's used to having two parents to rely on. Without me, he's going to need you even more. I just want to die knowing you two have the best possible relationship. He needs you so much, Lucius."

"Don't talk like that." His voice was cold - angry. "Draco is my son and I'll always be there for him. So will you. You're not going to die, Narcissa. There has to be another way. We just haven't found it yet. Your hateful sister can't be our only option. She can't. And you can't give-up. You have to stay strong until we can figure this out."

"Lucius-"

"No," he cut her off sharply, "don't start quoting Healers at me. I know what they said. I don't care." His voice broke right along with her heart. "I won't lose you - I can't."

"I don't want to die," she said, taking his hand across the tiny table. "I love you so much, but love can't keep me alive. We have to face the inevitable. You have to think about a future without me."

"No." He pulled away from her, getting to his feet. "You can't give-up. I won't let you."

He started out of the room.

"Lucius."

He didn't even look back.


	22. Letting Go

_How long has been since you felt anything but shame_

_Child, lift up your eyes 'cause mercy remembers your name_

_And those tears you've been holding back, let 'em fall down like rain_

_'Cause today is the day, yeah today is the day_

_Oh, the healing has begun_

_The Healing Has Begun ~ Matthew West_

Every once in awhile Hermione wished she had a normal life with friends and family - the kind of life she had with Ron. She couldn't even remember the last time she saw her own parents. Even their marriage taunted her, reminding her of the one she'd never have.

Shaking her head, she tried to clear her mind, but the plain white walls surrounding her offered little distraction. Shouldn't the walls of a hospital be bright and cheery? Patients - and often times Healers - felt bad enough without bleak surroundings. The walls were probably Toadface's idea. It was surprising she didn't paint everything black.

"Miss. Granger, it doesn't look good to have our Healers standing in the halls like statues." The kind but stern voice of Chastity Bulstrode interrupted her thoughts.

"Sorry," she replied, forcing a smile. "Guess I was having a moment."

"Well, it seems your friend is having a great deal of difficulty keeping his fingers attached to his hand." She smirked slightly. Even injured George was a source of amusement. Fred would be proud. "Mr. Weasley is waiting on you. Same room as last time."

"Thanks."

Hermione started down the hall.

"Miss. Granger," Bulstrode called after her, "I don't know what that boy's been doing, but you ought to encourage him to stop."

"Not much stops George Weasley," she called over her shoulder.

She went into the same exam room to find George in the same position with the same painful expression on his face. Talk about déjà vu. This was ridiculous. The only real difference was her lack of sympathy for him.

"I'm tempted not to give you pain potion this time," she said, leaning against the wall and crossing her arms.

"Give me a break, Hermione," he winced as he spoke. "This hurts like hell."

"Then why'd you do it twice?" she demanded, unlocking the potion cabinet and handing him a vial of pain potion. Once again, she had the honor of holding his severed fingers while he drank.

As the potion took effect, he breathed a sigh of relief.

"Developing new products without Fred is hard," he told her. "More mistakes and no one there to help when something like this happens."

"You know the drill." She motioned for him to lay his hand flat.

He obliged and she returned his fingers to their rightful place, saying the incantations to re-attach them.

"I can't begin to imagine how much you miss him," she said, tossing him a vial of blood replenishing potion and sealing the cabinet.

"Only every minute of every day. Sometimes I feel like I died, too."

He downed the potion in one gulp.

"I know you're hurting, too, Hermione. You're stuck in the grieving process for Ron, just like I am for Fred."

"Are you about to tell me to move on and get a life?" she asked bitterly. "That's Susan's advice."

"Sounds like good advice," he shrugged, "but I'd be a hypocrite to give it. I don't want to judge your grief, Hermione. Merlin knows, I'm sick of having mine judged."

"What do you want, George? Besides someone to re-attach your fingers every other day."

George smiled at that. "Well since you asked, Granger, I'd like to spend tonight with an old friend I never see anymore, except when I'm having finger issues. What do you say? Dinner tonight? My treat. Let's face it; we both need to get out more. And the odds of me losing fingers in a restaurant are pretty limited." He smiled widely, daring her to deny him.

"I get off at eight," she told him without thinking. It felt good to be impulsive. After the words left her mouth, she realized she really did want to have dinner with him.

"I'll see you then," he replied, getting to his feet with a goofy grin. "And thanks for putting me back together again."

"No problem."

As they walked out of the room, they found the corridor less deserted than it usually was. Standing only a few feet away was Lucius Malfoy with his unconscious wife in his arms - again. Draco stood by looking pale and frightened. Once again, Toadface stood glowering at them. Hermione was forced to conclude that her entire day would consist of nothing but déjà vu moments.

"I really don't care about that, Mr. Malfoy," Toadface's cold voice echoed down the hall. They were all so focused on each other; they failed to see Hermione and George gaping at them. "Now, I really must insist you leave my hospital. I have matters of some importance to deal with."

"Bloody hell," George whispered. "She's unconscious. Is that bitch really trying to deny her treatment?"

"She's tried before," Hermione sighed. "I have to go deal with this, but I'll see you tonight, okay?"

"Sure," he said, eying her. "Are you sure you don't need any help with bitch-face, over there?"

"We call her Toadface, remember?" Hermione smiled. "And I can handle her. Just go out the other way. If she sees you, she'll start something and I want to see Mrs. Malfoy as soon as possible."

George nodded, muttering something about the bitch-toad as he started down the hall away from Toadface. Like her, George hated to see people mistreated, especially by an Umbridge.

Taking a deep breath, she approached the small group, preparing herself for yet another showdown with Toadface. She was about to speak when Toadface's cold eyes stared into her. Her eyes were empty; Hermione felt a chill go down her back.

"Miss. Granger, why am I not surprised to see you lurking about?" she growled. "Before you open your oversized mouth, I'd like to remind you that you've already treated this woman once, without the consent of the hospital. During that unauthorized exam, you determined that she's afflicted with Cruremus. As I'm sure you're well-aware, this woman needs blood transfusions to survive, and she's not here with a donor today." She smiled evilly, looking towards the Malfoys. "Actually, I heard her sister refused to be a donor. Smart woman, Andromeda Tonks."

"How dare you?" Lucius snarled, but his voice sounded near tears.

"How dare I?" She laughed. "I do whatever I want, Lucius Malfoy. You're the one who needs to watch his step. Your days as king are long over."

"I fail to understand what Mrs. Malfoy's diagnosis has to do with anything," Hermione interrupted before Toadface goaded Lucius into doing something that could legitimately have him removed from the hospital.

"Without transfusions, she dies," Toadface spoke slowly as if addressing a child. "She won't be receiving transfusions because her own sister deems her unworthy of saving. Therefore, anything you do for her will only prolong a life that can't be saved, which is a complete waste of hospital resources. Let nature take its course and focus your considerable talents on someone who can be helped, Miss. Granger."

"That's ridiculous," Hermione replied without skipping a beat. "First of all, I know Andromeda Tonks and I find it very difficult to believe that she won't reconsider. You have no right to sentence Mrs. Malfoy to death before her sister has a chance to change her mind. Second of all, if you only treat patients guaranteed to have long lives that's no one. Anyone can die at any time. I'm painfully aware of that. Next you'll be telling me to stop re-attaching George Weasley's fingers."

Toadface smirked. "Actually, that's why I was on this floor in the first place. One accident is acceptable, but if that boy is too foolish to keep his fingers on his hand, it's not our job to repeatedly fix him."

"Yeah, it kind of is," she replied. "Just like it's our job to treat Mrs. Malfoy. This way, Mr. Malfoy." She started down the hall to the room beyond the one still soaking in George's blood.

"I'll see you sacked for this continued insubordination," Toadface yelled as she closed the door.

Lucius carried Narcissa to the cot as Hermione took a deep breath. She couldn't let that bitch get to her.

"I'm sorry we cause you so much trouble," Draco told her quietly.

At first, she didn't know how to respond. The last time Draco accompanied his mother he'd hardly said a word. None of her previous dealings with Draco Malfoy involved apologies.

"It's not your fault." She shrugged. "She's just a bitch. Don't take anything she says seriously. Actually, if you can tone her out, I recommend it. Some of the staff has mastered the art of not hearing a single word she says."

Lucius turned to look at her, waiting for her to bring his wife back to him. She shuddered, knowing the day could be coming that she wouldn't be able to do that.

"All right," she said, trying to sound normal, like the blowout with Toadface never happened. "Do you both mind waiting outside while I tend to Mrs. Malfoy? I know I let you stay until she was conscious before, but that was really because I didn't know how she'd respond to - well - me. At any rate, it really is easier for me to help her if you wait outside. I promise, I'll take good care of her."

"Yes, of course," Lucius nodded. His instant trust in her continued to shock her. "Whatever you need. Draco, come." He placed his hand on Draco's shoulder and led him towards the door.

Left alone with Narcissa, Hermione approached the unconscious woman. She was pale - ghostly - and her skin was cool to the touch. She wasn't bleeding this time though, which Hermione took as a good sign. Her appearance was so fragile; Hermione couldn't imagine the cruelty Toadface directed towards her.

Proceeding as she had before, Hermione waved her wand beneath Narcissa's nose, conjuring strong scents to stimulate her senses. There was no response.

Hermione was not pleased that she'd have to try more abrasive measures to wake her. Did this mean her condition was progressing? So little was known about Cruremus, she felt like everything was trial and error. She didn't like the feeling. At least, Lucius and Draco weren't in the room. She shuddered to think what they might do if they thought she was hurting Narcissa.

She turned Narcissa's pallid hand over, focusing on her tiny wrist. Her thin veins were clearly visible, making Hermione's job easier, but no more pleasant. The idea of inflicting pain made her queasy, but she had to accept that sometimes it was unavoidable.

"I'm sorry about this," she said before raising her wand to the cluster of veins and reciting the required incantation.

The spell was designed to cause pain, following the track of the veins. Hermione despised the spell from the moment she'd been taught it, but she couldn't deny its effectiveness.

Narcissa's eyes flew open and she whimpered, pain etched across her face. She'd only seen Narcissa Malfoy look that terrified once before when she searched for her son as battle rang out around her.

Hermione had to force back tears as she took Narcissa's hand. "It's all right," she said. "The pain doesn't last long. I swear. I'm sorry. It was the only way to wake you."

To her surprise, Narcissa gripped her hand tightly, only letting go when the pain subsided. Her body relaxed and she appeared exhausted.

"Is the pain completely gone?" Hermione asked.

"Yes." Her voice was weak. "Was I unconscious again?"

"Yes, but you should be fine now."

"Lucius and Draco?"

"They're in the waiting room. I'll get them for you. You can go home as soon as you're feeling up to it. Rest here until you're ready." She turned to leave.

"Wait."

Hermione stopped, turning back to her.

"Why do you keep helping me?" Narcissa asked. "Why are you so kind to me?"

Again, Hermione was caught off-guard. This was even more bizarre than Draco apologizing to her. She didn't even know how to respond.

"Um," she started, "it's my job. I'm a Healer. I take care of people." She watched Narcissa for a reaction to her ineloquent reply.

"I don't deserve it. Not from you."

Hermione sat in the single chair near the bed, running her hands through her hair. Enough people were declaring Narcissa unworthy of life; she didn't have to start agreeing with them.

"Of course, you deserve it." She forced a smile. "You have the same rights as everyone else, Mrs. Malfoy."

"Narcissa."

"I'm sorry."

She grinned slightly. "Please, call me Narcissa. You've saved my life twice now. I think it's appropriate. And I know what your job is. That doesn't mean you have to take me on as a patient. That spell hurt me and you felt bad. I just don't understand why. After what I did to you, you should hate me. You should want to cause me pain."

Oh hell. She was talking about the night at Malfoy Manor. The night Bellatrix nearly killed her. The night that played out in her mind the first time Lucius brought Narcissa to St. Mungos.

"Narcissa, you're still weak from the spell I used to wake you. This isn't the best time for this conversation." Her preferred time being never.

"Please." Narcissa reached for her hand.

Hermione shrugged, finding it impossible to deny her, "I don't hate you; and the last then I want to do is cause you pain. I agreed to be your Healer because your husband asked me to, shocking though that was," she sighed. "As for what you did that night; it's one of my worst memories and I'll carry scars from it for the rest of my life, but I don't blame you for that. What could I expect from you? Were you going to put your family's lives at risk for a Mudblood who'd battled with your son since childhood? Of course not. You did what you had to do for your family. There's nothing wrong with that. I was a casualty. I forgive you."

"I'm not sure I deserve it."

"Well, I think you do. I'm not fond of your ideals, but I admit they seem to be changing. Otherwise, I doubt you'd have let me treat you in the first place. I didn't expect you to, actually. You're not a bad person, Narcissa. The love you have for your family is astounding. Anyone who can love like that has a good heart. I don't doubt that you deserve forgiveness."

"You really are an amazing girl, Hermione."

"Thank you, but I'm really just trying to keep it together, like everyone else. Now I really should go get your family. They'll be out there worrying themselves frantic."

"Thank you," Narcissa replied, "for everything."


	23. Stay

_In the silence of your room_

_In the darkness of your dreams_

_You must only think of me_

_There can be no in between_

_When your pride is on the floor_

_I'll make you beg for more_

_Stay with me_

_Stay with me_

_Stay ~ Shakespear's Sister_

"You actually get fan mail?" Draco asked, flipping through piles of unopened letters tossed on Harry's dresser. What else should he expect from the bloody Chosen One? "Unbelievable. After all this time."

Coming up behind him, Harry rested his head on Draco's shoulder, taking the letters from his hand and tossing them aside. Watching his expression in the mirror, Draco was certain Harry was embarrassed. Only Harry would be ashamed to be adored. He could use some of that adoration, if his lover was so troubled by it.

"Yeah," Harry muttered, closing his arms around Draco's waist. "If it makes you feel any better, I get hate mail, too. One time I got a howler about being drunk in public. Some lady said I was corrupting her kids."

"And why would that make me feel better?"

Harry shrugged. "No idea. Guess I'm still used to you hating me."

Pulling out of his arms, Draco sat on the edge of the bed. Sighing, he glared at Harry.

"What?" Harry asked, sitting beside him, but not touching him. "You're sulking."

"I'm not sulking."

"Come on, Draco. What did I say?"

Draco sighed again. He was going to sound like a prat, but Harry wasn't likely to shut-up without an answer. He was more relentless than Draco ever gave him credit for.

"We've been doing this for awhile now," he said. "I just expected you to know that I don't hate you. I'm risking a lot by being here. If my mother finds out about this, I have no idea how it could affect her health."

His own words surprised him. He hadn't planned to mention his mother. Damn Potter. When talking to him, he always found himself saying more then he planned - giving too much of himself away.

"I know you don't hate me." Harry took his hand. "You've made that very clear. Sometimes I just fall into old habits. Anyway, you know, you can stop this any time. If you're worried about your mum and want to walk away, I'll understand."

Draco shook his head, stretching out on the bed so his head was in Harry's lap.

"I don't want to stop. I'm the one who pursued you, remember? I hate sounding like a damn sap, but being with you is the only good thing in my life. I don't care if it's selfish. I'm not giving you up."

Harry twirled Draco's hair around his fingers. The tiny gesture always sent chills through Draco. No one had ever done that to him before. His sexual encounters only had one purpose - quick release. Everything with Harry was different - better.

"Good," Harry replied. "I don't care if it's selfish either. I want you with me."

Leaning against him, Draco closed his eyes, feeling oddly at peace. He never expected to feel such comfort from Harry Potter's presence. It was hard to believe they'd spent so much time fighting each other. Just one of his many mistakes.

"You falling asleep on me?" Harry tugged his hair.

Smiling, Draco opened his eyes. "Never. Just relaxing. It's kind of a novelty."

"Yeah, it's nice not having every move I make judged."

"Oh, I'm judging your moves, Harry," Draco replied, rolling over to look up at his lover. "I'm judging every move you make in this bed and I must say you're doing surprisingly well. I'll admit, I was worried you'd be a bit prudish." He smirked.

Harry laughed. "Thanks, I think. You're pretty good yourself. Definitely not prudish."

"If you called me prudish, I swear, I'd have smothered you with that pillow while I fucked your brains out."

"Ooo, that does sound exciting," Harry teased, "but I like to survive out encounters. I'm funny like that."

"I could tie you to this bed and make you beg for me." He slipped his hand under Harry's shirt. "I've always wanted to see you beg, Harry Potter."

"Oh really." Harry laughed again. "You really are a kinky bastard, huh?"

It was Draco's turn to laugh as he sat up. "Not really," he admitted. "I mean, I'll totally tie you up, if you're game, but it's not like I've ever done it before. It's just fun to see your reactions. Although, you're not nearly as easy to shock as I guessed. I'm not so sure you won't let me tie you up."

"I'm pretty tempted to let you do anything you want to me."

"Really?" Draco raised his eyebrows.

"Yes."

"Does that mean you trust me?"

Draco was astounded by the idea. After all the horrible things he'd done, how could anyone trust him, especially Harry? Every time they were together, he saw that disgusting mark on his arm, an affront to everything Harry sacrificed for. He didn't deserve Harry's trust or love, but he desperately wanted both.

"I trust you, Draco."

The words, so simple, elicited such powerful emotions in him. He felt safe and accepted, things he'd never felt outside his family before. Warmth surged through him. He knew he didn't deserve this. Part of him wanted to ask Harry why he'd give his trust to someone so unworthy, but he couldn't bring himself to question it, terrified that he'd learn it was a mistake.

Instead, he moved towards Harry, pushing his lips to his. Harry welcomed him, without hesitation. They kissed passionately, greedily until they had no choice but to come up for air. Gasping for breath, they stared at each other.

Harry smiled. "Wow. If I knew I'd get that kind of response, I'd have told you that I trust you weeks ago."

Smiling himself, Draco removed Harry's bottoms with one rough tug. The other man laughed, enjoying the passion he'd awakened in his partner. Draco was enjoying it, too.

He lowered his head between Harry's legs and took him in his mouth. A first, at least, with a man. He massaged with his tongue, tasting his lover in a new and different way. He felt Harry grab hold or his hair, guiding him. A tingle of excitement surged through him when Harry went hard in his mouth.

Hours later, Draco woke with his arms curled around Harry, his clothes long since discarded. He smiled, feeling good, but it was time for him to go.

He may have somehow earned Harry's trust, but that didn't change anything. It wasn't right for him to stay the night. Harry didn't need to wake-up and find the Dark Mark staring him in the face.

Untangling himself from Harry, he slid out of bed and glanced around the darkened room for his wand to summon his clothes. Before he could locate his wand, Harry's hand clasped his wrist, fingers only inches from the mark. He turned back to the man he believed to be sleeping.

"Stay," Harry whispered.

He wanted him. Harry actually wanted to wake-up beside him.

"Are you sure?"

"Get your arse back in this bed, Draco," he muttered sleepily. "Stop sneaking out in the middle of the night like a whore. I'm not going to pay you."

Draco actually laughed. Someone was a little cranky when woken unexpectedly.

He returned to the bed, wrapped his arms around Harry and fell into a dreamless sleep.


	24. Walk of Shame

_One step, two steps, counting tiles on the floor_

_Three steps, four steps, guess this means that I'm a whore_

_Uh-oh, hell no, how long till I reach the door?_

_Fuck me, my feet are sore_

_Walk of Shame ~ Pink_

She'd been out of bed less than half an hour, had been carried down the stairs, and still Narcissa found herself exhausted. Cuddled on the sofa in Lucius' arms, she could hardly keep her eyes open. She felt like she was asleep more than she was awake.

"You want me to take you back upstairs?" Lucius asked, trailing his fingers through her hair.

"No, I want to stay here with you."

"Do you want breakfast, tea, anything?"

She smiled, tilting her head to meet his eyes. "No, Lucius. I really just want to be here with you."

He tightened his grip, pulling her closer. "You seem so tired. I just wish there was something I could do for you."

"I am tired," she admitted, taking his hand, "but I'm also happy. I love just being in your arms. This is what you can do for me, Lucy. Just hold me."

As she spoke, she watched her words more closely than usual, careful not to mention her death. Everything was so peaceful. She didn't want to start a row because of his refusal to face reality. She worried about him though. Surely her death would be easier to handle if he'd just accept that it was coming.

"I love holding you." His lips brushed across her forehead.

Turning her head upward, she met his lips. Throwing everything she had left into that kiss, she felt the awe-inspiring passion she'd always shared with her husband.

They broke apart only because the sound of the front door startled them both. No one could get passed the gate. They exchanged a confused glance.

"Draco?" Lucius guessed.

"Isn't he upstairs sleeping?"

As if to confirm his father's suspicions, Draco quietly slipped passed the door, wearing his clothes from the day before. He was obviously trying not to wake them with his early morning arrival. Narcissa turned to Lucius to find him smirking.

"Good morning, Draco," he called, sounding almost cheerful.

Draco's head reappeared in the doorway. His hair was still scruffy from sleep and his cheeks were bright red. Narcissa couldn't help smiling. The last time she saw Draco blush, he was all of ten years old.

"Uh…morning, Father, Mother." He stepped fully into the doorway, although it was clearly the last place in the world he wanted to be. "I…erm…didn't think you'd be up yet."

"Clearly," Lucius continued to smirk. "Had a fun night then, did you?"

Narcissa knew he was teasing Draco, probably remembering the times he'd sneaked into this very house after spending forbidden, pre-marital nights with her. But Draco wasn't taking the conversation as lightly as his father. Actually, the poor boy looked terrified, but why? He couldn't really think they'd condemn him over a night with a girl. The days of waiting for marriage were long over, even in strictly traditional families.

"Err…yes, fun." His face was changing from red to green.

Lucius laughed. "Draco, you're acting like we caught you with the dead body of the Minister for Magic. Relax, son. You're allowed to have a life. If you want to spend the night with your girlfriend, you hardly need our permission."

"Yes, Father," he replied, still looking frightened.

"Want to tell us her name?" Lucius asked.

Draco looked like he was going to vomit.

"Lucius," Narcissa said, trying to match her husband's light tone, "don't badger him. He just got home."

"I really could use a shower," he said quickly, shooting her a look of gratitude. "I'll be down in a little while." He bolted out of sight.

He really didn't want to talk about this mysterious girlfriend. Was this what he'd been so uptight about lately? Some girl? The whole thing made Narcissa edgy. Why was he so damn nervous?

"Well, that made for an entertaining show." Lucius chuckled.

"It's not funny," she scolded. "He was scared."

"No. Draco wouldn't be scared to talk to us. He's just embarrassed, that's all. Who really wants to talk to their parents about their sex life? Maybe I shouldn't have teased him so much, but his facial expressions were just priceless."

"You're enjoying this way too much." She glared at him.

"He'll get over it." Lucius shrugged. "I think I handled that better than my father, at least."

"That's not saying much," she snorted. "A mountain troll could've handled that better than your father. He wanted to have me burned at the stake for seducing his impressible baby boy. As if I was the one who stalked you for months."

Lucius laughed. "He might've suggested something to that effect, but he grew to love you."

"He grew to tolerate me," Narcissa corrected, "and he only did that because you threatened to leave the country. He wanted you to marry Bella, and you know it."

"Oh, what a fabulous match. We'd have killed each other before our first anniversary, probably before the honeymoon. Besides, I loved you, only you."

"Well, I loved you, too, Lucius, and I always will." She got to her feet, ignoring her spinning head. "But right now, I'm going to talk to our son. Draco doesn't get embarrassed, not like that. Something is going on with him."

Lucius looked like he wanted to argue, but then thought better of it. Her stubborn streak always beat his into submission. He was learning not to bother starting the argument.

"Let me take you up the stairs then," he said, getting to his feet.

"I can manage." Her whispered protest was a complete lie and they both knew it. She hadn't tackled the stairs in days. Sometimes she just liked to pretend that she was still a normal, capable woman. Life as an invalid didn't suit her.

"I'm sure you can," he lied, trying to spare her feelings, "but why should you when you've got me to chauffer you around?"

He pulled her into his arms and she giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck. Even under the bleak circumstances being carried by her husband felt romantic. She nuzzled his neck as they ascended the stairs.

At the top, Lucius stopped, but he didn't sit her down. Instead, he clung to her as if unwilling or unable to let go.

"Lucius?"

"You know, I could take you to our room," he offered. "Wouldn't that be more fun?"

"Fun, yes," she agreed, "but I can't talk to Draco in there."

Sighing, he sat her carefully on the floor, keeping a hold of her arm until he was certain she had her balance. He'd become more observant since her illness. Even the symptoms she tried to hide, he was aware of. There was nothing he wouldn't do to give her a little more comfort. Nothing except facing the truth about her prognosis.

"All right, I'll be in my study if you need anything."

She watched him disappear down the hall before approaching Draco's closed door. She listened for a minute, but heard no sound coming from inside.

"Draco, sweetheart," she called as she rapped on the door.

"Come in," came the muffled reply.

Stepping into her son's fortress, she found him freshly showered, hair still wet, stretched out on this bed. He greeted her with a warm smile and slid his legs over so she could sit beside him.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked, taking the seat he offered.

"Not particularly," he admitted. "Father did a good job of summing up my night."

She smiled. "He was just playing with you, sweetheart. Neither of us is going to judge your sex life."

He rolled over to face her and this time he did look embarrassed. "Do we really have to talk about my sex life?"

"Of course, not," she replied. "Trust me, that would be just as awkward for me as it would be for you. I would like to know what's going on with you, though."

"What do you mean?"

"Sweetheart, not so long ago, you were drinking so much I was afraid you were an alcoholic. Now you've all but stopped, which is great, except you've replaced alcohol with secrecy. There's something you're desperately trying to hide. I'm worried about you, Draco. Does this have something to do with your new girlfriend?"

Draco was slow responding as if choosing his words with caution. "I don't mean to act suspicious. Sometimes I forget you can read me better than anyone else. There's just a lot going on right now. I'm worried about you, all the time. I know you don't want me to be, but I am. You're my mother and I love you."

He took a deep breath before continuing. "And then there's this new relationship. It's different from any relationship I've had before. Everything is more intense and real. It's special, Mother, but it's also kind of scary and overwhelming.

"So maybe I haven't been myself lately. I'm sorry I worried you. Really, I'm fine. The last thing you should be doing is worrying about me. You need to focus on getting well."

Getting well. Just like his father, he refused to accept the truth. She didn't have it in her to tell him that she wasn't going to get better. He was already struggling enough, and she knew there was more to this mystery relationship then he was telling her.

"Sweetheart, I'm always going to worry about you. I'm your mother. And just because I'm ill that doesn't mean you can't talk to me. Tell me more about this girl."

"It's complicated." He looked away.

"But you like her?"

"Yeah," he admitted with a slight smile. "A lot."

"Good. I want you to be happy, Draco. I want that more than anything."


	25. Special

_Oh I know, I should go_

_But I need your touch just too damn much_

_Loving you, That isn't really something I should do_

_I shouldn't wanna spend my time with you ya_

_Well I should try to be strong_

_But baby you're the right kind of wrong_

_Ya, baby you're the right kind of wrong_

_It might be a mistake_

_A mistake I'm makin'_

_But what your giving I am happy to be taking_

_The Right Kind of Wrong ~ LeAnn Rimes_

Staring down at the headstone, tears clouded her vision as Hermione tried to read the name etched into the stone. It didn't matter. She'd said the name a million times and thought it a million more. Ronald Weasley. Ron. Her Ron. The man she was supposed to spend her life with.

Beside her, she heard a muffled sob. She wasn't the only one trying to hide her tears. As she mourned a fiancé, her companion mourned a twin and a brother. Two brothers buried side-by-side, both dead before their twentieth birthdays.

Catching her by surprise, George took Hermione's hand. His flesh was cold to the touch, despite the warmth of the day.

"Thanks for coming here with me," he said. "I usually come alone."

"Me too. Harry came with me on Ron's anniversary. More like I dragged him. He was drunk and not the best support."

"Ron was really the last straw for him, huh?" George asked.

"Seems that way," Hermione replied, wiping her eyes. "All he wants to do is drink and he blames himself for every death, like he could've saved everyone."

"Can't be easy being the Chosen One."

"It's not easy being any of us," Hermione snapped. "Everyone blames themselves for something during the war and most of it is rubbish, just like Harry. The only difference is the rest of us are still trying to live our lives - what we have left of them."

"Why do I think we're suddenly talking about Narcissa Malfoy?"

"I'm not supposed to talk about her," Hermione said with a shrug. "Ever heard of patient confidentiality?"

George chucked. "Yeah, that's a huge concern since Rita Skeeter managed to publish every detail of her condition in The Daily Prophet, including the fact that Andromeda Tonks is refusing to give her transfusions. They're talking about running public commentary on whether or not Tonks is right. Skeeter says she is."

Hermione shuddered. "That's sick. I don't read the Prophet anymore and you just reminded me why."

"Skeeter's a bitch, but since she made the details of Narcissa's illness public knowledge, I think you can talk about it, if you want to."

"It's nothing really." Hermione forced a smile. "It doesn't even have anything to do with her condition. It's just something she said to me the other day. I thought of it when I was talking about Harry blaming himself."

"What'd she say?"

Hermione sighed. She shouldn't have brought this up. George didn't know about her experience at Malfoy Manor and she didn't want to rehash the details.

"She just wanted to talk about something really awkward - something she felt bad about. It's nothing really. I shouldn't have brought it up."

"She wanted to talk about the night her psychotic sister tortured you mercilessly and then tried to give you to an equally psychotic werewolf while she stood there and watched?"

For the first time in their conversation, she turned to look at him. "How'd you know about that?"

George gestured to the stone in front of her. "Ron told me. You weren't the only one traumatized that night."

At the mention of Ron's name, Hermione's surroundings came into sharp focus. She'd been so intent on the conversation; she almost forgot where they were. This was not the best place to discuss Narcissa Malfoy, especially considering Ron's feelings towards her and her family. Unlike her and Harry, he'd never found any forgiveness for them and that night was likely the reason why.

"We should go," she said

"I want to know what she said to you." His voice had an edge that reminded her of Ron. He wasn't happy Narcissa mentioned that night. Great. Just what she needed, another overprotective Weasley. His hand tightened around hers as if to illustrate her concern.

"And I'll tell you. It's really no big deal. I just don't want to talk about it here, in front of Ron. You know how he felt about the Malfoys. It feels disrespectful."

Nodding, George squeezed her hand. "I guess you're right. Want to come back to my place? Verity's keeping the store afloat so we can just slip upstairs and talk."

"Yeah."

Butterflies fluttered in her stomach and she couldn't imagine why.

They Apparated together to Diagon Alley. The sign for _Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes_ hung above their heads and the sound of laughter flitted through the door. How did George stand all the laughter? Laughter was the most important thing he shared with Fred.

As George held the door open, she ducked inside. She hadn't been here in so long; she'd forgotten how exciting and magical the place was. She was reminded of a Muggle fair her parents took her to when she was young.

Unaffected by the scene, which was common place to him, George led her through the chaos to the stairs leading to his loft. After giving Verity a quick nod, he ushered her up the steps.

The stairs ended in a modest, but comfortable setting room. They sat on the sofa, close enough for their legs to touch. George didn't offer refreshment, just stared at her intently, waiting to see if he had a valid reason to hate Narcissa Malfoy. And he was supposed to be the easy going one in his family.

"She asked why I agreed to be her Healer."

"A fair question."

"And one I'm getting sick of," Hermione admitted with a sigh. "Does everyone think I should just look the other way while she and her family are suffering?"

"Isn't that exactly what she did to you?"

Taking a deep breath, Hermione briefly closed her eyes.

"It's not the same. At that time, the Malfoys had Voldemort as a semi-permanent houseguest. Their home was invaded by crazed Snatchers and good ol' Bellatrix was running the show. None of them could've helped me without endangering themselves and the rest of their family. Draco tried. He lied for us. Anyway, I'll tell you the same thing I told Narcissa: I don't blame her and I forgive her. She doesn't think she deserves forgiveness."

"Well, I agree with her," George said bluntly. "She doesn't deserve it, but you're a wonderful person to give it anyway."

Hermione shook her head. "I'm nothing special. I just know what it feels like to get caught in something you can't control. Hell, that's how I've spent my whole life since I met Harry."

"You are special, Hermione," he whispered. "You're the most special woman I've ever known."

Before she had time to process his words, his lips were pressing into hers. Instinctively, she opened her mouth, responding to him.

She knew this was wrong. She was kissing Ron's brother. A voice in her head screamed at her to stop - to pull away - but she couldn't make herself do it.


	26. Happy Birthday, Harry

_Sometimes I wish there were no windows in this room_

_The sun comes pouring through those curtains way too soon_

_Reminding me it's time to rise and shine_

_But you look so good lying there in that old T-shirt of mine_

_There's not enough hours in the night_

_Not enough time to hold you tight_

_Not Enough Hours in the Night ~ Doug Supernaw_

On the morning of July 31st Harry opened his eyes to find Draco still asleep, curled into a ball beside him. He'd once teased Draco that he slept like a coiled snake. The presence of another man in his bed was no longer a novelty. Waking up beside Draco felt normal and now only caused him to smile. He twirled Draco's hair, being careful not to wake him.

His caution failed and Draco's eyes fluttered opened. Instead of being annoyed by the unrequested wake-up call, he smiled sleepily at Harry, seemingly as pleased to be there as Harry was to have him.

"Good morning," Harry said, kissing him hello.

"Happy Birthday."

Wide eyed, Harry pulled back. His expression must've been pretty ridiculous because Draco laughed at him.

"You look like no one's ever wished you a happy birthday before."

"It's been known to happen," Harry replied. "I just didn't realize you knew when my birthday was."

Draco smirked, the trademark smirk that Harry remembered so well from school. That look used to annoy him to no end, now he found it endearing, even attractive.

"Everyone knows everything about you. You're bloody Harry Potter."

"Right," Harry replied, looking away. "How could I forget about that?"

Pushing himself into a sitting position, Draco pulled Harry into his arms. Still pouting, Harry rested his head against a now familiar chest.

"We've been…" Draco hesitated, "whatever this is for nearly two months. If I hadn't known your birthday, I'd have made a point to find out by now."

"Whatever this is?" Harry asked, turning to Draco.

"Hey, I don't know what you want to call us. I told Mother it was a relationship."

Harry gasped and found himself glad they weren't having this conversation over breakfast. He'd have choked on something for sure. If Draco was talking about them to his mother, he might've mentioned it.

Still cradling Harry in his arms, Draco laughed. "She also thinks you're my mysterious girlfriend. Honestly, didn't you think my parents would be a little curious when I started strolling in the house every morning?"

"I guess I never thought about it."

"Well, that's the extent of what they know." His fingers trailed through Harry's hair, which was even more unruly in the morning.

"So what am I to you?" Harry asked. He didn't know why he was pushing this, but couldn't seem to stop himself. "To your parents, I'm a mysterious girl, but what about you?"

Draco kissed him on the top of his head. "Well, well, somebody's feeling needy today."

Pulling out of his arms, Harry sat straight, glaring at him. "Don't be an arse."

"Okay," Draco sighed. "I'm not sure what you want here. You want me to call you my boyfriend? I can do that. Actually, I'd like to do that."

"Then I guess I'm your boyfriend," Harry replied. He was grinning like a lunatic, but he really didn't care. That one word made him closer to Draco, made it harder for him to runaway.

"Are we done talking like teenage girls now?" Draco asked.

"You mean you don't want to make popcorn and squee over Quidditch players?"

"I'll smother you with a pillow."

"No you won't."

"And why not?"

"Cause I'm your boyfriend."

They both dissolved in laughter. There was an undeniable sense of freedom to their silliness, something Harry hadn't felt in a long time. He felt good with Draco. Better than he ever had. Certainly better than he had with Ginny.

"Are you finished being a tosspot?" Draco asked once their laughter subsided.

Crossing his arms, Harry pretended to sulk, still feeling giddy and stupid. "You just called me a tosspot - on my birthday."

Draco shook his head. "I swear, I'm going to break-up with you."

"No you won't," Harry said in a sing-song voice.

Draco raised his eyebrows.

"You'd miss all the hot sex."

"This is true." Draco nodded, grinning. "All right, I'll give you a choice. You can either keep acting like a total nutter or I can give you your birthday present."

Birthday present? Draco got him a gift? Just the thought of it sent electric shivers through him. He cared more than Harry ever guessed and that realization only added to his unexpected excitement.

"You got me a gift?"

"Why so surprised?" Draco asked. He tried to make his voice sound light, but Harry detected a hint of hurt. "You are my boyfriend, after all."

"We just decided that five minutes ago."

"We may have just said it, which I'm starting to regret, but it's been true for weeks. I care about you, Harry, and I'd never overlook your birthday. Really, I'm not the selfish git I pretend to be."

"I know that." Harry kissed him. "So where's my present?"

Smiling, Draco held out his hand. "My wand."

Harry reached over to the nightstand to retrieve Draco's wand and his glasses. If he was getting his first gift from Draco, he wanted to see it properly. He slid his glasses in place as he handed over the wand.

"You're going to conjure it?" he asked. "Ooo, is it a puppy? I always wanted a puppy."

"I'm summoning, not conjuring. And no, it's not a puppy."

"I'm sorry," Harry replied, nuzzling his neck. "I don't know why I'm acting like a five-year-old."

"It's cute." Draco turned so their lips meant briefly. "Irritating, but cute."

Before Harry could respond, Draco waved his wand and said, "Accio, Harry's gift."

A box flew across the room from Draco's discarded clothing and into his waiting hand. The box was small and intriguing.

Harry expected Draco to tease him with it, especially since he'd been acting like such a prat, but Draco seemed as anxious to give him the gift as he was to receive it. He felt like his eleven year old self that first Christmas he got presents.

"Happy Birthday," he repeated, handing Harry the box. "I hope you like it."

"Thank you, Draco."

Removing the lid, Harry peered into the box. It was all he could do not to gasp. Draco's gift must've cost a small fortune. Atop a sheet of cotton-baton lay an intricate golden chain. Each delicate link was engraved with either a lion or a snake. The engravings were so tiny that no one would notice them from a distance. A lion and a snake, hiding together in plain sight. How appropriate.

"I love it," he declared, pushing his lips into Draco's. "Thank you so much. It'll be like always having you with me."

"That was the idea. You really like it?"

"Draco, it's perfect." He took the chain from the box and handed it to him. "Clasp me?"

The chain felt cold against his skin, but it was a welcome sensation. He ran his fingers over the tiny links before turning for another kiss.

"Thank you," he said again.

"You're welcome," Draco replied. "I hate to do this, especially on your birthday, but I have to go home, see how Mother's doing, let her and Father know I'm still alive. But we'll have some more time tonight."

"About tonight," Harry said, "you might get here before I do. Hermione's taking me out. She's very determined about it. Anyway if you get here first, just keep our bed warm."

"No problem. Where's Granger taking you?"

"No idea, but I'm sure it'll be somewhere that doesn't serve alcohol. I saved a bottle of Firewhiskey for the occasion."

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Draco eyed him. "You haven't been drinking and you're taking that potion. What if you get sick?"

"Aww, you care," Harry teased.

Draco was the only one who knew he'd stopped drinking. He liked sharing things with him. But even Draco didn't know, he was the reason Harry stopped. With Draco, he didn't need alcohol to numb his pain; his boyfriend did a much better job.

"Of course, I care, you prat." Draco shoved him roughly. "You're my boyfriend. Seriously, if you make yourself sick and have to beg off birthday sex, I'll kick your arse."

"It's fine," Harry sighed. "It's one night. I promise, I won't drink the whole bottle. I won't want to because I'll be coming home to you. Tonight will be my last drink, I swear. I'll toast to Hermione."

"Granger'll love that."

"It's my birthday. She can't yell at me on my birthday."

"We'll see about that. Just be safe."

Draco climbed out of bed and began dressing. Watching him, Harry was astounded by the perfection of his body, the only blemish being the scar left behind by the Dark Mark on his left forearm.

"I'll see you tonight," Draco said before Disapparating, leaving Harry very alone.


	27. A Moment

_And I can't stand the pain_

_And I can't make it go away_

_No I can't stand the pain_

_How could this happen to me?_

_I made my mistakes_

_I've got nowhere to run_

_The night goes on_

_As I'm fading away_

_I'm sick of this life_

_I just wanna scream_

_How could this happen to me?_

_Untitled ~ Simple Plan_

Even early in the morning the August heat weighed against him and Draco was relieved to step into the coolness of Malfoy Manor. As he wandered down the hall, he expected to find his parents together eating breakfast or cuddling. However when he drew nearer the setting room, he was greeted by the familiar sound of awful music. His mother was playing her childhood records.

Not wanting his eardrums to be assaulted anymore than necessary, he attempted to slip past the room unnoticed. He loved his mother, but her taste in music was dreadful.

"Draco," she called, thwarting his escape plan.

Turning to face her, he smiled. She was seated alone on the sofa with her legs curled beneath her. It could've been wishful thinking, but Draco was sure there was more color in her cheeks. As she returned his smile, she looked almost like her old self.

"Morning," he said as he sat beside her. "Where's Father?"

"Hiding in his study. He claimed my music drove him from the room."

"I can believe that."

She pushed him playfully. "Honestly, you two have no ear for music."

"I can believe that, too," Draco agreed. "You seem to be feeling well today."

"It's a good day." She nodded. "Not that that stops Lucius from carrying me from room to room. He can be so ridiculous."

"Well, I haven't heard him come up with any illegal schemes directed at Andromeda for awhile. That's got to count for something."

"When he started talking about dragons, I think, even he realized he'd hit rock bottom."

"I really think we should do something though," Draco said, seeing an opening to reason with her. "Obviously something legal that doesn't involve dragons. We can't just give-up and accept that Andromeda won't help you. Maybe you should talk to her again. She's had time to calm down and think about this."

Beside him, she sighed. "Sweetheart, Andromeda's not going to change her mind. When we were children I wasn't worthy of a goodbye before she walked out of my life. Now she blames me for the death of her family, for supporting the Dark Lord. What about that scenario makes you think she'd ever help me?"

Draco didn't reply. He didn't know what to say. If Andromeda truly blamed their family for the death of hers, was there anything in the world that could change her mind? He had to believe there was.

He thought of his relationship with Harry. It was true neither of them had successfully killed anyone the other loved, but they'd done damage. He remembered the fury he felt when Harry's testimony sent his father to prison. He imagined the rage Harry must've felt when Granger was tortured in front of them. Now they were lovers. Even before that they were unable to let each other die. There had to be a way to reach Andromeda. His mother hadn't hurt her the way he and Harry hurt each other.

"Draco?" Narcissa's voice broke through his thoughts.

"I'm not giving-up," he told her. "There has to be a way to reach her."

She shook her head. "You're in as much denial about this as your father. Draco, there's nothing to be done. I'm dying."

"Don't say that." He didn't even try to conceal the sharpness in his voice. He'd never yelled at his mother before, but he was dangerously close to doing it now.

The music switched to a slow song as she sighed.

"Okay, Draco. I don't want to fight about this, not today." She held out her hand to him. "Come on, dance with me."

He looked from her hand to her face with confusion. They were on the verge of their first real row and she wanted to dance. Was she that desperate to avoid talking about confronting her sister?

"You want to dance?" he asked. "Now?"

"Yes," she replied, getting to her feet. She grabbed Draco's hand and tugged with surprising force. "Come on or the song will be over."

"Okay, okay," he gave in laughing.

He got up, wrapping her in his arms. They twirled effortlessly around the room. Both were flawless dancers, the result of an aristocratic upbringing.

As he led her around the room, dipping her towards the floor, she laughed in his arms. Her laughter was familiar, comforting and contagious. Soon he was laughing right along with her. Just being with her and being silly was unbelievably freeing. He remembered when she taught him to dance, despite his many protests. They'd spend most of their time laughing then too. There was a time, the laughed together a lot.

Getting lost in the scripted movements of dance, Draco allowed his mind to slip into the past to a time before his mother's illness, to a time before the war that changed them both.

He realized he was actually having fun until his mother's body went limp in his arms. He stopped moving and her head fell into his chest.

"Mother?" He held her close as he brushed her hair aside to see her face. With her hair no longer obscuring his view, he saw a large red stain forming on his shirt.

Not knowing what else to do, he scooped her into his arms and returned her to sofa. Already her skin was becoming cold to the touch. Being as gentle as possible, he laid her flat on the sofa.

Looking down at her, he was terrified. Any color in her cheeks, imagined or otherwise, was gone. The only color came from the steady stream of blood spurting from her nose. He'd broken Harry's nose and the blood was nothing like this. At the rate she was bleeding, she could die.

As an aspiring Death Eater, he'd never taken an interest in healing spells. He'd been more interested in causing pain than taking it away. One of his many mistakes. He didn't know what to do. He didn't know how to help her. So he fell back on old habits and did what he'd always done when he was in over his head.

"Father," he screamed. His voice was so pitched and panicked he didn't even recognize it. "Father."

Footsteps pounded down the stairs and Lucius rushed into the room, already looking frightened. One glance at his wife and he paled, falling to the floor beside her. Blood started to pool on the floor by his knees.

"We have to do something." Tears were streaming down Draco's face and he didn't even care. "We have to take her to St. Mungos."

"No," his father said, pressing his arm to her nose in a feeble attempt to slow the bleeding. "Not like this. She's never bled like this. I don't want to move her."

"We have to do something," Draco cried. "She'll bleed to death."

"You go. Go to St. Mungos and find the Granger girl. Bring her back here. If she's hesitant, offer her anything."

"Okay," Draco agreed, seeing the sense in his father's words.

Before he Apparated, fears flashed through his mind. What if he was too late? What if he came home to find his mother dead? What if Granger wasn't working? What if Umbridge kicked him out of the hospital before he could find her?

Somehow managing to silence the voices in his head, he Disapparated to St. Mungos, refusing to look towards his parents before he left.


	28. Beating the Odds

_And your strength has been stolen away_

_And your faith has been worn to a fray_

_But you live to live on one more day_

_Cause you're a survivor_

_And nothing can stop you now_

_Nothing can back you down_

_You never give up_

_You never give in_

_You're a survivor_

_Survivors ~ Matthew West_

"The most exciting thing I've done all day is straighten an ingrown toenail," Susan whined, sitting at a table in St. Mungos staff room with her head buried in her hands.

Hermione smiled at her friend, even though she couldn't see her. It was true that Susan seemed to attract less than stimulating cases, but she also didn't spend her free time feuding with their boss. Hermione assumed she was assigned the most difficult cases out of spite. Like the little boy with the toothache who kept biting her.

"You want some of my patients?" she offered. "It's Tuesday so the old guy who smells like dung will be in. You're welcome to him. Last week he asked if I had a boyfriend."

Susan peeked through her fingers. "No thanks. What'd you tell him?"

"That I was gay." Hermione smiled wickedly.

"You didn't." Susan's eyes widened.

"I did. I wasn't giving him even a glimmer of hope. The last thing I need is a ninety year old stalker."

"Who smells like dung," Susan added.

They both burst into laughter. At least, Susan was less sulky. Compared to Hermione's dung man the toenail guy must've looked pretty good.

Their laughter still filled the room when Bulstrode stepped inside. She shot them a disapproving look. Hermione expected a lecture about goofing off, but none came.

"Miss. Granger, I just left Mrs. Malfoy's son in the waiting room. He's bloodied and near hysterics. I couldn't understand a thing the boy was saying, except that he wants you." She delivered the news about Draco without showing a hint of emotion.

"Is it Narcissa?" Hermione asked, getting to her feet, all humor forgotten.

"Narcissa?" Bulstrode asked.

"Mrs. Malfoy then," she replied impatiently.

"Miss. Granger, why are you on a first name basis with this patient?"

Hermione gaped in disbelief. "With all due respect, Madame, I don't think this is the time for that conversation. Do you know if something's happened to Narcissa or not?"

"I do not, but I suspect something has. Young Mr. Malfoy is distraught, but appears uninjured."

"Thank you," she said briskly, slipping past Bulstrode into the hall.

She rushed into the waiting room to find Draco alone. The front of his shirt was drenched in blood and his eyes shone with a crazed grief. He reminded her of Lucius when he first arrived at the hospital with his wife. His eyes weren't focused on her and she wasn't sure he knew she was there.

"Draco." She stepped forward, touching his arm. "It's me, Hermione. Can you tell me what happened?"

Finally, he looked at her, but still seemed dazed.

"Granger?"

"Yeah." She smiled encouragingly. "Tell me what's going on."

Tears slid down his cheeks. "Mother. She collapsed. So much blood. Father's with her. Afraid to move her. Can you come?"

For a minute, Hermione just stared at him, piecing together his sentence fragments into something she could understand. This was really bad. That much she knew. Draco Malfoy didn't get upset, at least, not like this. And if he and Lucius were afraid to bring Narcissa to the hospital, she must be worse than before.

"Yes, of course, I'll go to her," Hermione assured him. "Where is she at the manor?"

"Yes."

Hermione summoned some potentially useful potions from down the hall. Once the vials were in her hand, she turned back to Draco, who was trembling beside her.

"Malfoy, can you Apparate us there?" she asked. "I'd do it, but I'd never get passed your family's protective charms or even that gate. If you can do it, we can get to her faster."

Before Draco could answer, Toadface wandered into the room with a smirk on her ugly face. Hermione's stomach plummeted. Draco couldn't deal with her, not now.

"Making unauthorized house calls now, are we, Miss. Granger?" She continued to talk, but her words were cut off.

Knowing Toadface would try to keep Hermione from his mother seemed to spur Draco to action. He grabbed Hermione's arm and with a pop she found herself engulfed by pressure pushing against her body. They were Apparating. Now if Malfoy could just get them safely to his home without splinching them, they'd be all set. In his current distressed state, there were no guarantees.

At the sound of a second pop, she chanced opening her eyes. She wasn't in pain and Draco wasn't screaming in agony. Both good signs.

Upon opening her eyes, the fear of being splinched fled from her mind. Panic seized her. She couldn't breathe. She should've thought of this, prepared for it, but everything happened so fast. Her eyes blurred, but it did nothing to erase her surroundings from her mind.

She was back. Not just in Malfoy Manor, but in the very room where she'd been tortured. Despite all her talk about forgiveness and moving on, she wasn't ready for this. Her arm pained where Bellatrix had carved her flesh. A tiny whimper escaped her lips.

"Hermione," Draco came into her line of vision and grasped both of her arms to steady her. The sound of him using her given name was enough to shock her back to the present. "Are you all right? I didn't think. I could've at least warned you where she was. I'm sorry."

Keeping her focus on his frightened eyes, she took a deep breath. She was here for a reason and that reason had nothing to do with her having a breakdown. Narcissa needed her help. She could be dying. This wasn't the time to be consumed by her demons. She claimed to forgive the Malfoys; it was time to prove it.

"I'm okay," she said, hoping the words were true. "It was just a shock. That's all. Where's Narcissa?"

Draco stepped back and her eyes landed on Lucius across the room, kneeling beside an unmoving figure. He looked to her, tears falling down his face. She never expected to see Lucius Malfoy cry.

With trembling legs, she approached the sofa. This was bad and she was on her own. If she didn't know what do to, she couldn't just call on Bulstrode for help. Narcissa Malfoy's life was completely in her hands and the thought terrified her.

The closer she got the more her fear grew. There was so much blood. More than she'd ever seen come from one person. If she couldn't stop the bleeding fast, Narcissa was going to die in front of them.

She knew she should order Draco and Lucius from the room, but couldn't bring herself to do it. To hell with protocol. This whole situation went against anything she'd been trained for. Chasing Narcissa's family away when she could be at death's door was cruel. She'd simply have to work with them there. She'd done it once before.

Lucius moved back, allowing her access to Narcissa, but he refused to let go his wife's hand. She didn't ask him to. Instead, she leaned over Narcissa, taking her other hand to check her pulse. Her heart was still beating strong. The best news Hermione received all day.

She sat the potions on the floor as she debated what to do. The bleeding was coming from a disease, not a wound. No incantations could heal her injuries and stop the blood flow. Her best shot was the blood clotting potion, which meant finding a way to bring Narcissa back to consciousness. Her patient was obviously beyond the stage where scents might trigger her senses. She'd have to start treating Narcissa by causing her pain - again.

"I have to wake her," Hermione said to Lucius. "The best way to do that involves sending pain through her veins. I don't like it, but it's effective. I used it to wake her last time."

"Don't hurt her," Draco cried from somewhere behind her.

She was reminded of why families weren't supposed to be present for these procedures.

"I don't want to," she said, turning to face him, "but I need her awake to help her."

"Is there no other way?" Lucius asked.

"This is the least abrasive method."

"And if we don't wake her?"

"It's unlikely she'll wake on her own. The only chance we have of stopping the bleeding requires potions. She has to be conscious to take them. If I do nothing, she'll most likely bleed to death. I'm sorry."

"Do it," Lucius said, squeezing Narcissa's hand.

"Father!"

"I won't let her die, Draco. Your mother can endure pain. She's strong, Draco, and we'll be here with her. Come over here."

Reluctantly, Draco joined his father on the floor. He seemed unable to look at his mother. Hermione didn't blame him. She wouldn't want to see her mum like that either.

Holding her wand over Narcissa's wrist, she looked to Lucius and Draco.

"Okay?" she asked.

They both nodded, although Draco was hesitant.

Whispering the incantation, Hermione waited for Narcissa to open her eyes, cringing from the pain, but she didn't. Seconds turned to minutes and still nothing happened.

"What's wrong?" Lucius demanded. "Why isn't she waking up?"

"I don't know."

She checked Narcissa's pulse again and nearly gasped. It was fading fast. She was dying. Was it possible she was too close to death to be awakened? Hermione couldn't let herself believe that.

Without taking the time to argue with Lucius and Draco about it, she raised her wand to Narcissa's wrist and uttered another incantation. The spell was stronger, more painful, but it was also a desperate last resort.

Again, seconds turned to minutes and Narcissa remained still and silent. Tears stung Hermione's eyes as she was forced to accept there was nothing she could do. She turned to speak to Lucius and Draco when a terrified moan reached her ears.

She jerked her head around to see Narcissa's eyes flutter open. Pain was etched into her face, but she was alive. Lucius and Draco moved closer to her as Hermione retrieved the potions.

"It's okay," Lucius said. "I know it hurts, love, but you'll be okay. I promise."

"On fire," Narcissa whispered. "Lucy, make it stop."

Hermione squeezed between Lucius and Narcissa, which was no small feat.

"Narcissa, I need you to drink some potions for me," she said. "I know it hurts. This first potion will help, okay?"

The blood clotting potion was the most important. That was what she should be forcing down Narcissa's throat, but she couldn't stand the look of agony on her patient's face. She was only glad she thought to bring the pain potion.

Narcissa nodded her consent and Hermione held the potion to her lips. Despite her weakness, she was able to drink the potion quickly and it took affect right away.

"Thank you," Narcissa whispered as she closed her eyes to return to sleep.

"No," Hermione cried, taking Narcissa's face in her hands. "Don't go to sleep. Please, Narcissa. I need you to stay with me."

Her eyes opened again. "So sleepy."

"I know, but you need to drink this." She held the blood clotting potion to her mouth and breathed a sigh of relief when she began to drink.

"Can I sleep now?" she asked in a weak voice.

Lucius ran his hand through her hair and Draco clutched her hand. She wasn't talking to either of them, which proved just how close to unconsciousness she was.

"Just one more," Hermione told her, forcing a smile. "Then, I promise, you can sleep."

She gave the last potion to her patient. The Blood Replenishing Potion. Overall, replenishing her diseased blood was an act of futility, but since she'd lost so much blood, it was the only way to keep her alive. It wasn't a long term solution, but Hermione was currently only concerned with the short term.

When the potion was gone, Narcissa closed her eyes without asking permission, probably afraid Hermione would deny her again. She was asleep before Lucius' lips brushed against her forehead.

Cleaning the blood from Narcissa's face, Hermione waited to see if her treatment was successful. A tiny trickle of blood came from her nose and then nothing. It worked. She was going to be okay - this time.

"Miss. Granger?" Lucius' voice broke into her thoughts.

"She should be fine," she assured him. "Although, I'd have preferred her to stay awake. If it's all right, I'd like to stay until she wakes again. Just to be certain there are no complications."

"Yes, of course," he said quickly. "Thank you. I'd have lost my wife long ago if it wasn't for you. I am beyond grateful to you, Miss. Granger."

"You're welcome, Mr. Malfoy," she replied, getting to her feet and moving to a nearby chair. "I'm glad I could help her."

Lucius and Draco remained close to Narcissa. Neither of them rose from the floor. She doubted either of them would move until Narcissa woke again. Their love for each other made her smile.

Glancing around the room, she no longer saw the place where she'd been tortured. She saw a place where she beat the odds - twice. There was no way she should've survived her encounter with Bellatrix, but she did. There was no way she should've been able to save Narcissa, but she did. Maybe this room wasn't so bad after all.


	29. I Want to Forget

_I need some distraction_

_Oh beautiful release._

_Memories seep from my veins_

_Let me be empty_

_And weightless and maybe_

_I'll find some peace tonight_

_In the arms of the angel_

_Fly away from here_

_From this dark cold hotel room_

_And the endlessness that you fear._

_You are pulled from the wreckage_

_Of your silent reverie_

_You're in the arms of the angel_

_May you find some comfort here?_

_Angel ~ Sarah McLachlan_

The door to his parents' room had been closed for the last three hours. In the last two hours, Draco heard no murmured voices from within when he walked by. His mother was asleep and there was no reason to think she wouldn't rest peacefully through the night. If there'd been an inordinate risk, Granger wouldn't have left. She was nearly as vigilant about his mother's health as him and his father.

The house was silent and all was well, for the time being, at least. Still Draco couldn't control the fear that plagued his mind or the tremors that attached his body or the tears that sprang to his eyes. Granger didn't say it, but he saw it in her eyes and heard it in the desperation of her voice. His mother almost died. For a minute, Granger thought she was gone.

Pacing by his parents' room, he still heard nothing. He was alone, falling apart, and torturing himself. Worst of all, he had no valid reason to be doing it. His mother was fine, safe and sleeping. If anything unexpected happened, his father was with her. If she needed him, his father would send for him and he'd Apparate to her instantly.

There was no reason to stay in this house alone when there was only one place he wanted to be. Taking a deep breath, he made up his mind. He was going.

It was late. Harry would've expected him hours ago. By now, he was probably in bed, but Draco couldn't bring himself to care about waking his lover. He needed Harry. He needed him now.

With one last glance at the closed bedroom room, he Disapparated, reappearing at the foot of Harry's bed.

His lover was in bed, but showed no interest in sleeping. The room was fully lit and Harry sat upright with what looked like a vial of that potion Granger gave him to aid in his attempt to stop drinking. He refused to look at Draco, anger seeping off him.

"I thought you weren't coming," he said coldly. "You could've sent an owl, you know. I was worried."

Draco felt himself breaking. Harry was right to be mad, but he couldn't deal with it then. All he wanted was to feel his lover's arms around him.

"Please, don't be mad at me." His voice broke, but he didn't care about showing weakness to Harry. "Not tonight."

When Harry looked up at him, his eyes widened with concern. All traces of anger faded from his face. He sat the empty vial aside and rushed towards Draco, wrapping him in his arms.

"What happened?" he asked, holding Draco tightly and leading him towards the bed. "You look awful. You've been crying."

Seated on the familiar bed in the safety of Harry's arms, Draco broke down. Sobs wracked his body and he did nothing to stop them. Knowing exactly what he needed, Harry simply held him, stroking his hair. He stopped asking questions and just offered comfort.

Draco didn't know how much time passed when he finally stopped crying. In reality, he ran out of tears and strength to shed them. Using the last of his energy, he forced himself to sit up so he could look at Harry. His boyfriend looked back at him with sadness and concern. His t-shirt was drenched in Draco's tears.

"I blubbered all over you," he muttered, embarrassed. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry." Harry pulled him over so his head was resting in Harry's lap. Again, he started stroking Draco's hair. "Just tell me what you need."

"You." Draco wrapped his arms around Harry's waist.

"Well, you've already got that."

"Mother almost died today," he blurted out. "Granger saved her life, but she didn't think she could. I saw it. She thought Mother was going to die." Fresh tears burned his already sensitive eyes.

"Oh, Draco. I'm so sorry." Harry draped his arm around Draco's shoulders. "How's she doing now?"

"Okay, I guess. Granger stayed at the house all day and most of the evening to make sure she was all right." He could feel himself starting to panic as a hard truth hit him. "But this is just going to keep happening to her. Someday, Granger won't be able to save her. Harry, I'm going to lose my mother."

Harry held him tighter. "I wish I could fix this for you. I'm so sorry, Draco."

"I hate her, you know," Draco said. "Andromeda. I don't care that she's raising your godson. She's a murderer."

Harry sighed. "I admit, I haven't felt very close to her lately. I never thought she could really do this."

"I hate her."

Sliding Draco's head off his lap, Harry stretched out beside him, pulling him close. Even Harry's touch did nothing to ease his anger and hatred.

"What about my godson?" he asked. "Do you hate him, too?"

Surprised by the question, Draco rolled over to face him. Harry watched him without anger of judgment.

"Of course, I don't hate him. He's a baby - a baby I've never even laid eyes on. Hating him because of his grandmother's cruelty is just the kind of ridiculous reasoning that's going to cost my mother her life." He managed a small smile. "Besides, he's your godson. How could I hate someone you love so much?"

Harry kissed him quickly on the lips. "I wish you could meet him."

Draco snorted. "Yeah, dear Auntie Andromeda would love that. She probably thinks I'm the next Dark Lord."

"She doesn't know you."

"She doesn't know my parents either, not anymore. They haven't spoken since they were children. That isn't stopping her from killing my mother."

Lowering his eyes, Harry didn't reply. It was obvious he'd run out of things to say on the topic. Draco didn't blame him. When it came to his mother's looming death there were only so many things to say and none of them helped anyway.

"I'd like to meet him, you know," he told Harry. "Maybe someday." Although he couldn't imagine a day when Andromeda Tonks would let him near her grandson. He shuddered to think how she'd treat Harry if she learned about their relationship.

"It was really bad today?" Harry asked abruptly as if their conversation about Teddy never took place. "Your mum, I mean. Hermione really thought she was going to die?"

"It was written all over her face. And there was so much blood. Only a fool wouldn't realize she was close to bleeding to death."

As if Harry sensed the very second he'd calmed down enough to handle it, he continued to ask questions.

"Hermione treated her at Malfoy Manor? She stayed there?"

"She took care of my mother in the room where Bellatrix nearly killed her. Your friend is something else, Harry. She was brilliant."

"She is brilliant," Harry agreed. "I'm sorry. I don't know why I'm going on like this. It's cruel asking you to relive it."

Draco kissed him.

"I'm going to relive the horrors of today no matter what. You're asking because you care. You care about me, Mother, and Hermione. But I'll admit, I don't want to talk about it anymore, not right now."

"What do you want?" Harry asked.

"I want to forget. I want to force today from my mind, just for a little while. I want to feel alive," he whispered in his lover's ear. "I want you to make love to me, Harry."

Harry didn't respond with words, but that was okay. Words couldn't free Draco from the weight of the fear and grief that was crushing him. Harry shoved his lips into Draco's and began undressing him.

When their bodies melted together he finally felt at peace.


	30. Alive

_(Wake me up)_

_Wake me up inside_

_(I can't wake up)_

_Wake me up inside_

_(Save me)_

_call my name and save me from the dark_

_(Wake me up)_

_bid my blood to run_

_(I can't wake up)_

_before I come undone_

_(Save me)_

_save me from the nothing I've become_

_Bring me to life_

_(I've been living a lie, there's nothing inside)_

_Bring me to life_

_Bring Me to Life ~ Evanescence_

Keeping her expression calm, Hermione attempted to talk casually with Lucius as he walked her down the long driveway away from Malfoy Manor. Inside she was anything but calm. Truthfully, just being alone with Lucius was somewhat unnerving, even though he was being especially kind. Apparently, saving Narcissa's life put her on his good side. She couldn't help but wonder how he'd feel about her when the day came that she couldn't help Narcissa.

And that was what truly troubled her: Narcissa's declining health. Seeing her grow weaker and weaker terrified Hermione. She became a Healer to help people, not watch them die. She'd seen enough death to last her a lifetime.

When they reached the end of the driveway, the large gate creaked open. Hermione expected the sound to trigger more memories of that night, but it didn't. Maybe she was starting to let go of those ghosts.

"You can Apparate once you're outside the gate," he told her.

"Thanks," she said quickly.

"Thank you," Lucius replied. "You helped my family when no one else would. You will forever have my gratitude."

Hermione turned to tell him she wasn't doing anything special, but he was already rushing to the house, anxious to return to his wife. She could've called after him, but chose not to. He wanted to be with Narcissa and there was someone she wanted to be with, too.

She stepped outside the gate and Apparated to Diagon Alley without considering her intentions or the possible consequences. For the first time in her life, she was acting on her primal urges and it felt good.

Dusk settled above the familiar buildings in Diagon Alley, casting eerie shadows. Most of the shops were closing for the night and the street was unusually deserted.

Before she could lose her nerve, she stepped into Weasleys' Wizards Wheezes. There were no patrons in sight and Verity looked at her with tired eyes.

"You look like hell," she announced with her usual level of tact. "Is that blood on your sleeve?"

Glancing down, Hermione saw that Narcissa's blood had stained her pink cardigan. Seeing the blood again, at such an unexpected time, made her queasy. She ripped the sweater off and folded it over her arms, even though she knew she'd never wear it again. She offered Verity no explanation. At that point, she really didn't care if the girl thought she was an axe murderer.

"Is George here?" she asked.

"Sure," Verity replied, apparently forgetting about the unexplained blood. "He just went upstairs. I'm leaving now so you can let him know I locked up."

"Yeah," Hermione muttered as she stared up the stairs.

By the time she reached the third step, she'd already forgotten Verity's message. The ever present responsible part of her mind encouraged her to catch Verity and verify the message, but she told it to sod off.

She barged through the door, leading to George's living room, without bothering to knock. George was seated on the sofa and turned to gape at her in disbelief. Of course, he was surprised to see her. They hadn't seen each other since the kiss. She'd even ignored his owls.

"Hermione." He looked slightly afraid of her. "I'm glad you're here. I want to apologize for the other day."

She held up her hand to stop him. She wasn't there for apologies. She wasn't there to talk at all. After being so close to death, actually feeling Narcissa's heart slow, all she wanted was to feel alive.

Accepting her request, George closed his mouth and watched her with poorly concealed curiosity. But there was something else in his expression and she could read it was ease - desire.

Without speaking, she joined him on the sofa, placing her knees on either side of him. His eyes widened in shock, but before he could speak Hermione pushed her lips to his, using her tongue to beg for entrance. She wrapped her arms around his neck, feeling his tension. He hesitated to open his mouth for her, but she persisted, unwilling to leave without receiving what she came for.

George wasn't able to resist her for long. After all, they wanted the same thing. Their kiss was longer, deeper and more desperate than before. This kiss was also guilt-free. Ron was the furthest thing from their minds.

With their lips still attached, Hermione slid her hands beneath George's shirt, exploring the feel of his muscular abs. She pulled back as she pushed the shirt over his head. She threw it to the floor and hers followed.

Unsteady in his movements, George fought with the clasp on her bra. She laughed at his difficulties, at the sheer normalcy of the moment. She felt free, safe, alive.

Still laughing, she reached behind her back and freed the clasp. He pushed the bra away with unexpected force, allowing it to fall to the floor. Closing her eyes, she waited for his fingers to tough her flesh, but they never did. Instead, his lips closed over her nipple, sucking gently.

A moan escaped her throat and heat surged through her body. She reached for his trousers, intending to rip them away, but his hands closed around her wrists, preventing her from achieving her goal. He took his mouth away from her breast, making her feel cold and exposed.

"Are you sure you want this?" he asked, staring into her eyes.

"Yes."

"Hermione-"

"Don't talk," she interrupted. "This is what I want. I want you."

Her words were enough to satisfy him. He freed her hands and she resumed her mission. His hands tugged on her trousers and she facilitated by raising her hips.

Pushing her naked body against his, she could feel his errection.

"Do it," she whispered. "I want you."

The rest of the night felt like heaven. Death was the furthest thing from her mind. She was alive.

The next morning, the world looked different. She woke to find herself naked atop George. Heat rushed through her. The heat of humiliation, not excitement.

What had she done? Ron's brother! She had sex with Ron's brother.

She got to her feet, staring down at George's still naked body. A smile spread across his sleeping face. She'd seduced him. Ron's brother! How could he ever forgive her? How could she ask him to?

Dressing hastily, she fled, consumed by guilt.


	31. Finding Happiness

_I don't know what I'd ever do without you_

_From the beginning to the end_

_You've always been here right beside me_

_So I'll call you my best friend_

_Through the good times and the bad ones_

_Whether I lose or If I win_

_I know one thing that never changes and_

_That's you as my best friend_

_Best Friend ~ Brandy_

Harry was pulled from sleep by a loud popping sound in the next room. Hermione? She and Draco were the only ones who Apparated into his flat and he knew where Draco was. But the pop was too loud for her. She Apparated so quietly it was eerie, unless she was upset.

"Harry?" Hermione's trembling voice called as she banged on the bedroom door.

Beside him, Draco bolted upright, fear in his eyes. He kind of looked like a naked jack-in-the-box. Any other time, Harry would've teased him, but he knew Draco's fear of being caught was genuine.

"She can't fine me here," Draco whispered. "My parents. My mother's health. Harry, do something."

"Curl into a ball," Harry told him, jumping out of bed. He had to be quick. There was no way of knowing when Hermione would lose patience and appear in his bedroom.

"What?" Draco hissed.

"Just do it."

Harry grabbed the Invisibility Cloak from the closet's floor, leaving his stash of alcohol in plain view. At that point, he really didn't care. He didn't drink it anyway. If it was a choice between Hermione finding his unopened booze or his naked Draco, he'd pick the booze.

When he turned back to the bed, he was pleased to find that Draco listened to him. He was curled in the center of the bed, watching him intently.

"Now, just keep quiet," he said, throwing the cloak over his lover. Once the fabric touched his flesh, he disappeared, leaving the illusion of a messy, but empty bed.

"Harry!" Hermione cried again. Her voice oozed with hysteria. How the hell was Draco going to remain silent through whatever rant she was planning to unleash?

"Just a minute," he replied, looking down at his own naked body. Hermione didn't need to see that either.

He was tying his robe shut when she burst into the room. He turned to growl at her for barging in, but stopped short when he saw the tear stains on her cheeks and the state of her uncombed hair. This wasn't just another lecture about his life. Something was wrong.

"HarryIdidsomethingsostupidId on'tknowwhattodo." Her words ran together and he couldn't understand any of them.

Tugging at her hair, she looked like she was going to start crying again. She paced around the room before her eyes landed on the bed. Looking exhausted, she headed towards it.

"Hermione, no," he cried, but it was too late. She was already halfway down, about to sit directly on Draco.

A tiny yelp made Harry jump when Hermione realized what she was sitting on wasn't a bed. Instead of turning to him for an explanation, she found the edge of the cloak and ripped it away, revealing all of Draco Malfoy. Harry cringed as his best friend was stunned into silence.

Uncoiling himself, Draco flashed a condescending smile that Harry hadn't seen since their Hogwarts days. Maybe some of his cockiness had survived the war, after all. Harry didn't know why, but that made him happy, even though it could have chosen a better time to resurface.

"Morning, Granger."

"Malfoy." Hermione's eyes widened. "Naked Malfoy. In Harry's bed."

"You're usually better with words, Granger." He smirked. "Enjoying the view?"

Turning bright red, Hermione looked away, refusing to focus on anything above the floor.

"Draco," Harry snapped, glaring at him. "Why are you baiting her? Five minutes ago, you were terrified she'd find you here."

"Well, it's a little late to worry about that now."

Shaking his head, Harry rested his hand on Hermione's shoulder, gently guiding her towards the door. "Come on, we'll talk in the living room while Draco gets dressed."

"I'm fine like this," Draco called.

Without replying, Harry shot him a nasty glare and closed the door behind himself and Hermione. He settled her on the sofa and sat beside her, waiting for her to speak.

"That was Malfoy," she said, staring at him in disbelief. "Draco Malfoy."

Harry knew he shouldn't say it. She was upset and Draco taunted her more than enough for both of them, but he just couldn't stop himself. The words were too perfect.

"What? Were you expecting Narcissa? You shouldn't listen to Ginny's conspiracy theories, Hermione."

"You arse," she yelled, punching him in the leg.

He laughed. The punch hurt, but he deserved it, so it was fair.

"Are you going to explain or not?" she demanded, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

Harry shrugged. Really the scene in his bedroom should've been explanation enough. "Draco and I are together." The truth sounded simple, but he knew it was anything but simple to Hermione.

Before she could respond, Draco entered the room looking appropriately somber. Upon donning his clothes, he'd lost his unexplained sense of humor. Harry hoped to see it again, but not until Hermione recovered from her shock.

"I'm sorry, Granger," he said, nervously approaching them. "I was a prat in there."

"Yes, you were," she snapped. "And my name's Hermione. You might as well use it. You're shagging my best friend."

"I'm sorry, Hermione."

When she didn't reply, he turned to Harry. "You two obviously need to talk. I should go."

The rejected look in his eyes felt like a slap across Harry's face. He got to his feet and pulled Draco into his arms, kissing him quickly on the lips. No matter what else was going on, he didn't want Draco confused about where they stood.

"You don't have to go."

"Yeah, I do." He smiled to let Harry know it was okay. "Right now, Hermione needs to talk to you. And I need to check on Mother. We can talk tonight, okay?"

"If you're sure."

Draco pecked his cheek. "I'm sure."

"Hermione, I know I have no right to ask anything of you, but could you please not tell my parents about this?"

A slight smile came to Hermione's face. "I hadn't planned on it."

"Thank you," Draco replied and with a slight pop, he was gone.

"How long?" Hermione demanded as Harry returned to his seat.

"I don't know. A couple of months. We started talking at a pub the night you threw my Firewhisky away. Not too long after that."

"And you never thought to share that little detail with your best friend?"

"Why?" he snapped, tugging at the chain that always fell around his neck. "Cause you're being so understand and supportive?"

"I sat on him, while he was naked, in your bed. What kind of reaction were you expecting?"

"Then maybe you shouldn't barge into a man's bedroom."

"Stop pulling at that damn chain," she said and then understanding flashed in her eyes. "He gave you that, didn't he?"

"Yeah. So what?"

"So he's buying you gifts?"

"For my birthday, Hermione. That's all."

"I can't believe you didn't tell me any of this." She wrung her hands, shaking her head. "When the hell did you decide you were gay anyway?"

Up until that point, Harry really believed he'd handled her intrusive questions with an element of tact. After all, she was his best friend and she was in an awkward position. But this was going too far. He was mad.

"I didn't decide anything, Hermione," he yelled. "How the hell am I supposed to know what I am? I'm just the Chosen One, The Boy Who Lived, the drunken ex-savior. I haven't had time to be gay or straight. All I know is being with Draco makes me feel good. I'm happy. I'm living. Isn't that what you wanted? What right do you have to judge who I'm with?"

He wasn't done screaming, not even close. It felt good to just yell. But before he could go on, Hermione interrupted.

"You're not drunk. You're not even hung-over."

Her words were so baffling; he lost his train of thought. His rant died on his lips. What did sobriety have to do with anything?

"And?" he asked.

"You're always drunk. We've been fighting about if for over a year. Are you drinking the potion? Did you quit?"

Harry shrugged, exasperated. "Yes, I quit. Yes, I'm taking the potion. I could use a refill, by the way. I just don't want to be drunk anymore. Not since Draco and I started up. When I'm with him, the guilt isn't all-consuming. He makes me feel like I really can move on from the past. I've never felt like that before."

"You're really serious about being with him, aren't you?"

"Yes."

"Well, you're acting like your old self, especially with the Narcissa comment." She laughed.

Her sudden change in tone confused him. She was all over the place this morning.

"You're good with this, then?"

"Harry, we fought a mountain troll together. We saved the Philosopher's Stone. We rescued Sirius from the Dementor's Kiss. We started an underground Defense Against the Dark Arts course. We fought Death Eaters. We destroyed all of Voldemort's Horcruxes. We buried some of our closest friends. We buried Ron. And those are just some of the more notable things we've been through together. After all that, do you really think dating Draco Malfoy is going to end our friendship?"

Harry laughed, feeling unbelievably relieved. "Well, when you put it that way."

Sighing, Hermione rested her head on his shoulder.

"What did you want to talk to me about?" Harry asked. "Before we got…distracted."

"Oh, I just had sex with George last night to escape my fear of death, brought on by Narcissa's near-fatal episode, and then snuck out this morning consumed by guilt about Ron. You're not the only one who's allowed to have an interesting sex life, you know."

Harry started blankly.

Once Hermione finished explaining her night in more detail, he knew it was his cue to offer advice, but he didn't have any.

"Do you care about George in a romantic way?" he asked. "You said you've been spending a lot of time together."

"I don't know. Yeah, sort of. I think something's developing there, but he's Ron's brother."

"You don't have anything to feel guilty about, Hermione," he said, following his gut instincts. "Well, except maybe sneaking out. You sought comfort with someone you have feelings for. That's pretty normal."

"But he's Ron's brother."

Harry shrugged. "I don't know why that matters so much to you. Ron was my best mate. I think I knew him better than anyone else, and he loved you, Hermione. He loved you more than anything. He'd have cut off his right arm to make you happy. Even though he's gone, he'd still want you to be happy. If you can find that happiness with George, Ron would want that for you."

Hermione threw her arms around him. "I love you, Harry. That's exactly what I needed to hear."

"I love you, too. Now go talk to George. You deserve to be happy again, Hermione."


	32. Apologies

_And it feels like tonight._

_I can't believe I'm broken inside._

_Can't you see that there's nothing that I wanna do,_

_But try to make it up to you?_

_And it feels like tonight._

_Tonight._

_Tonight._

_'Cause there's nothing that I wanna do,_

_But try to make it up to you._

_And it feels like tonight._

_Tonight._

_Feels Like Tonight ~ Daughtry_

When she left Harry's flat after their illuminating conversation about their respective love lives, Hermione realized she was already an hour late for work. She was torn. She wanted to talk to George, but she'd already missed most of her shift the day before. No way was Toadface going to pay her for the hours she spent at Malfoy Manor.

Sighing, she decided it really didn't matter. After her little disappearing act, she owed George an explanation and it just couldn't wait. If she couldn't make rent, she'd sleep on Harry's sofa; Draco would love that. Chuckling to herself, she Apparated to Diagon Alley.

Despite the early hour, the street was busting and George's shop was no exception. As she stepped into the now familiar store, she was assaulted by the sound of laughter from happy patrons. Many of them were younger than Hogwarts age, enjoying an outing with their parents. Hermione couldn't help envying their simplistic, worry-free lives.

Forgetting about the customers, she glanced around the store for a streak of red hair. First, she spotted Verity at the cash register and then she saw him, only a few steps away, stocking shelves with his back to her. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach and she didn't know if it was from the excitement of seeing him or the fear of talking to him.

Stepping behind him, she summoned all her courage and said, "Good morning, George."

"Miss. Granger," he replied stiffly, shooting a nasty look over his shoulder.

She laughed. She couldn't help it. In all the years she'd known George, he never referred to her as Miss. Anything. Somehow, in the insanity that was now her life, she'd ended up on friendlier terms with Narcissa and Draco Malfoy than she currently was with George, who she'd shagged the night before. Of course, she deserved George's wrath. She'd done a pretty shitty thing to him.

"That wasn't meant to be a joke," he snapped, not turning around. "What do you want?"

Painfully aware that Verity was both watching and listening, she began to fidget. She didn't know how to handle this.

"I wanted to talk."

"That's funny." George finished with the shelf and finally looked at her. "This morning I got the very distinct impression that was the last thing you wanted to do."

"I'm sorry."

"Is that the best you've got, Granger?" He crossed his arms and glared at her. "Cause that's really not gonna cut it."

Hermione felt a surge of anger towards him. Maybe she was in the wrong, but this was ridiculous.

"I came to apologize and explain," she snapped, meeting his glare. "You got your apology. I was wrong. I'm sorry. But you're sure as hell not getting an explanation in a room full of people. Believe it or not, this is embarrassing enough for me without an audience. If you care so little about what happened last night, I'll just go."

With tears in her eyes, she turned to leave. It was too late. She'd ruined any chance they had when she walked out on him. What did she expect? Not everyone could handle her emotional blow-ups like Harry and Ron.

Before she could take more than a couple of steps, a warm hand clasped around her wrist. She gasped, stopping short.

"Okay, Hermione," George whispered so they wouldn't be overheard in the crowded room. "You're right. This isn't the place to talk about this. Will you come upstairs with me?"

She nodded.

"Verity," George said in his normal cheery voice, "I'm going to be upstairs for awhile. No interruptions. The store is in your very capable hands."

"Sure, boss."

Looking only at the floor, Hermione trailed up the stairs behind George. Her heart was beating ridiculously fast and she felt faint.

As they stepped into the living room, her eyes landed on the sofa - the scene of the crime. She could feel blood rushing to her face, which only got worse when George casually sat on the sofa. He looked at her expectantly so she sat in a chair across from him. Staring at her cracked and broken nails, she realized she was overdue for a manicure.

"Well, we're alone now. What the hell happened last night, Hermione?"

She sighed. She went there to tell him the truth. Now she had to suck it up and do it.

"Last night shouldn't have happened," she began. "At least, not the way it did. Yesterday was a bad day for me. Narcissa had a really bad spell. I ended up treating her at Malfoy Manor, in the room where I was tortured, which actually went surprisingly well. But then she almost died. I felt her heartbeat slowing. It was one of the most terrifying moments of my life. When I thought I couldn't save her, I was reminded of every friend who wasn't saved. It felt like death was mocking me, reminding me that it can come for anyone, anytime, and there's nothing I can do about it. When I left the Malfoys, I just wanted to feel alive. So I came to you. I used you."

"You regret being with me?" The hurt in his voice was clear.

"I regret being with you like that. What we did last night was meant to be special. I used it as a distraction." She paused, licking her lips. "But I'm not sorry we did it, not really. I have feelings for you. That's why I came running to you when I was upset."

"Then why did you sneak out?"

"I felt guilty. I've felt guilty since these feelings started. You're Ron's brother. I thought that was wrong until I talked to Harry."

"You talked to Harry about us?" George cried, slapping the sofa. "Before me?"

"He's my best friend," she said, knowing the words sounded lame. "I went to see him when I left here this morning."

"I'm starting to see why Ginny was so jealous of you two," he muttered.

"Harry and I aren't interested in each other that way. We're never going to get together." An image of naked Draco, smirking at her, popped into her mind and she wondered if she could ever forget it. "Trust me."

"So what does all this mean, Hermione? Do you want to try a relationship with me?"

"What do you want?" she countered.

She'd been going on and on, telling him everything. He knew how she felt. It was about time he offered something.

He chuckled, the first sign his good humor was beginning to return.

"I can't believe you have to ask. I kissed you. And, really, what kind of idiot blows his fingers off twice? Yes, Hermione, I want to date you."

She gaped at him. "You prat. You blew your fingers off just to see me?"

"It worked." He grinned.

"But what about your family?" she asked, turning serious again. "I felt disloyal to Ron. What if they see it the same way? You've all been through so much. I don't want to make anything worse."

George shook his head. "Spending time with you these last few weeks has been amazing. I don't want to give that up. I have to believe my family will understand that. They already love you, Hermione. We'll talk to them together. It'll be fine. If you want to be with me, that is."

"I do," Hermione admitted. "I really do."


	33. Promise Me

_I try not to think_

_About the pain I feel inside_

_Did you know you used to be my hero?_

_All the days you spent with me_

_Now seem so far away_

_And it feels like you don't care anymore_

_And now I try hard to make it_

_I just want to make you proud_

_I'm never gonna be good enough for you_

_I can't stand another fight_

_And nothing's alright_

_Perfect ~ Simple Plan_

After sleeping through the night and most of the day before, Narcissa was still exhausted. Her memories of the previous day were hazy, but she knew it was bad. Hermione wouldn't have been at the house otherwise.

Closing her eyes, she curled her legs beneath her and leaned into Lucius. Like most mornings, they were seated together on the sofa in the sitting room.

"You can't even keep your eyes open," Lucius said, holding her close. "Let me take you back to bed. You went through a lot yesterday. There's no reason you shouldn't sleep-in today."

"No," she sighed, forcing her eyes open. "I'm not spending my days in bed, Lucius. It's humiliating enough that I need you to carry me down the stairs. Let me have some dignity."

"I don't mind helping you."

"Well, I do mind." Tears stung her eyes, but she forced them back. "I don't enjoy being an invalid and I don't plan to become an outcast. I want to be down here, not imprisoned in our room."

His grip tightened around her shoulders and she felt a pang of guilt. She didn't mean to yell at him.

"You're not an invalid, Cissa," he said. "You're ill, nothing more or less. I don't mean to upset you. I love you. And, of course, you can stay down here, if that's what you want. You know that."

She wrapped her arms around him. "I didn't mean to snap at you. I love you, too, Lucius. I guess, I'm just angry."

"Rightfully so. That bitch should be arrested. What she's doing is murder."

"I don't want to talk about Andromeda."

"Don't say her name."

Narcissa couldn't stop from sighing. "Then what would you like me to call her? I'm not saying that bitch every time I refer to my sister."

"Why not. It's accurate."

She was spared further argument when they were interrupted by the sound of the front door opening. A smile came to her lips. Draco was home. As far as she knew, he never slept in his own bed. He also continued refusing to tell her anything about his girlfriend.

When he appeared in the doorway, he looked tired and a little frazzled. She was about to ask him what was wrong when Lucius spoke.

"Where the hell were you?" he snarled, glaring at their son.

A look of surprise crossed Draco's face, but it quickly turned to anger. Despite the dizziness, she pulled out of Lucius' arms to glower at him.

"The same place I am every night," Draco replied.

"So some slut you're shagging is more important than your own mother?"

"Lucius," she cried, stunned that he'd talk to Draco like that.

"You don't get to call my lover a slut," Draco yelled, fury etched into his face. He'd never yelled at Lucius before - never. "And how dare you say I don't care about Mother? You know, it's not true. This is killing me. I'd do anything to help her. There's just nothing to do."

"You could refrain from sneaking out of the house at all hours," Lucius growled in reply. "Your mother went through hell yesterday and a few hours later you're off for sexual pleasures."

"She was asleep. You were with her. I was alone. I didn't want to be alone."

"The whole world doesn't revolve around what you want."

"Fuck you," Draco snarled and pounded up the stairs.

Consumed by rage, Lucius jumped to his feet to follow. Narcissa caught his arm, holding as tightly as she could.

"Lucius, no. Leave him alone."

"He can't talk to me like that."

"Sit down, please. Please, don't go up there and yell at him."

He glared at her, clearly annoyed, but returned to his spot on the sofa. She didn't cuddle close to him, but crossed her arms and matched his glare. Better he yell at her than Draco.

"You heard the way he spoke to me. A son can't address his father like that."

"Yes, I heard him and he was out of line, but he wasn't the only one." She felt a headache coming on, but tried not to show it. "Lucius, what was that? You called his girlfriend a slut. You implied that he doesn't care about me. That was cruel and you know it. What kind of reaction were you expecting?"

"He shouldn't have gone out last night."

"Why?" She didn't even try to hide the frustration in her voice.

"You were especially ill. He should've been here for you." He ended their staring contest by looking at his hands.

"Draco is well-aware that I'm ill and he's struggling with it. You should be helping him, not baiting him. Besides, he's right. There's nothing he can do. There was certainly nothing for him to do last night. I'm glad he went out. What good does it do if he sits around here sulking? He had someone to comfort him. That's a good thing, Lucius."

"What if you needed him?"

"Then you'd have sent for him and he'd come running. You know, he would."

"Yeah," he grumbled, "he would."

She smiled at his sulky admission. One thing Lucius always hated was being wrong. Feeling sorry for him, she leaned against him and he held her.

"I guess I was out of line."

"You think?"

"I'll talk to him later, when he calms down. Maybe I can even manage an apology."

"You better."

Lucius chuckled. "I still can't believe he swore me."

"You kind of deserved it."

"Thanks."

"Well, it's true." She took a deep breath. "Lucius, I really wish you'd try harder with him. He adores you and you're always so hard on him."

"I'm not. I just don't coddle him like his mother."

She grinned. "I don't coddle him. I love him."

"So do I."

"I know that, but you're still hard on him. He likes to think he's all grown-up, but he's really not. He still needs us. I won't be here for him much longer. You have to be gentler with him when I'm gone. You're going to be his only parent."

"Narcissa." The tone of his voice told her he was getting ready for a row, still determined that she would somehow live.

"I don't want to argue," she told him. "Just promise me that if anything happens to me, you'll take care of Draco."

"Cissa, we've had this conversation before. You know I'll take care of my son, but if you need a promise from me, fine. I swear, if anything happens to you, I'll be there for Draco. I'll even coddle him from time to time. But this is all ridiculous because you're going to be just fine."

She snuggled closer to him. Why did he have to live in denial?

**A/N:** Sorry this chapter is late. I missed yesterday's update because I have the cold from hell. I'm just barely getting through this chapter today. So just so you all know, I may not be able to post for the next couple of days. Depends how I'm feeling, but I'll do my best.

Thank you all for the wonderful reviews you've left. I promise not to leave you waiting any longer than necessary.

And to those of you who keep asking, I'm not going to tell you what happens to Narcissa in advance. What would be the fun in that? :p


	34. Trying

_The longer I live the more I believe_

_You do have to give if you wanna receive._

_There's a time to listen, a time to talk._

_And you might have to crawl even after you walk._

_Had sure things blow up in my face,_

_Seen the long shot win the race._

_Been knocked down by the slammin' door._

_Picked myself up and came back for more._

_Life's a Dance ~ John Michael Montgomery_

Harry was half dozing on the sofa when a slight pop brought him back to full wakefulness. Smiling, he got to his feet, planning to greet Draco with a kiss. He stopped short when he found Hermione standing behind him instead of his lover. His smile was replaced with a look of confusion.

"Expecting someone else?" she teased, taking over his spot on the sofa.

Her eyes were wide and dancing with excitement. A goofy grin seemed to have taken up permanent residence on her face. She looked radiant and youthful. He hadn't seen this side of Hermione since before Ron died.

"Somebody's in a good mood," he replied, sitting beside her. "I almost didn't recognize you. Does this mean your talk with George was good?"

"I told him everything, even that I slept with him to prove I was still alive."

"And?"

"And things couldn't have went better," she squeed. Hermione Granger actually squeed. "He wasn't mad. We're going to try dating. We're even going to talk to his family together in case they're upset about Ron, but he insists they won't be. Then we spent the whole day together. Harry, it was amazing. I forgot it could feel like this."

"I'm happy for you, Hermione." He smiled.

"I'm happy for you, too, by the way. I know, I didn't say it earlier. Finding out you were involved with Draco Malfoy was a pretty big shock and seeing him naked really didn't help. I swear that image is seared into my mind forever." She shook her head. "Anyway, you're happy so I'm happy."

"Thanks, Hermione," he grinned, "and I really didn't plan for you to find out that way."

"Serves me right for inviting myself into your bedroom, I suppose."

Something occurred to Harry and he couldn't resist poking at it. After all, if their positions were reversed, Hermione would surely scold him.

"You say you were with George all day?" he asked, his voice sounding mildly curious.

She nodded. "He can be so romantic when he's not being a total goof-ball."

"But what about work?" He crossed his arms, attempting to look stern, like she'd done to him so many times. The only difference was that he really didn't care if his friend played hooky. "Hermione Granger, did you skip work to snog George Weasley? How utterly irresponsible."

Him imitation of a scolding parent must've been pretty bad because she burst out laughing and hit him with a cushion. He laughed, too.

"Actually," she said, her voice taking on a serious tone, "I have to go in early tomorrow to make sure I'm not sacked. I missed my entire shift today and over half of it yesterday."

"Yesterday? I thought you were with Narcissa yesterday."

"I was." Hermione's eyes flashed with anger. "To Toadface, that's the same as skipping work."

"She still doesn't want you treating her?"

Harry felt his own surge of anger. They were talking about Draco's mother. Hell, she's even saved Harry's life. The way Hermione's boss was treating her awakened a terrifying fury within him, but he held it back, pushed it away.

"No, and I'll spare you the details of her disgusting rants. Why would someone like her become a Healer in the first place? I suspect she'd have made an excellent Death Eater, though."

"Bitch," Harry muttered.

He was about to elaborate on his feelings for Sylvia Umbridge when a pop alerted him to a second visitor. He turned to see Draco's stunned face, staring at Hermione.

"Granger? You're still here. I-I didn't expect. I can go."

"My name is Hermione," she reminded him with a smile. "And don't you dare take off. Harry'll never forgive me if I chase you away."

With the tiniest of smiles, Draco looked to Harry. There was a desperate glint in his eyes, almost like he was afraid Hermione was lying - afraid Harry really wanted him to leave. Where the hell had the sudden insecurity come from?

He had an urge to tease, to tell Draco to leave, but something told him it'd be a mistake. Despite all their nights together, he was certain that in that moment, if he told Draco he hated him, he'd believe it.

Getting to his feet, he walked across the room to give Draco a proper greeting. The kiss was longer and more involved than he'd intended with Hermione in the room, but he couldn't stop himself, couldn't pull away. He needed to be sure Draco knew he was wanted.

"What's wrong?" he whispered when they finally pulled apart.

"Nothing," Draco replied, keeping his voice low. "I just had a row with Father this morning. Everything's fine now. Guess I'm just a little weird about it. I never yelled at him before."

"I can go," Hermione offered, interrupting their whispered exchange.

"No," Draco said. "We'll have to learn to share him, I suppose. But really, what did you two have to talk about all day?

Draco sounded more like himself and fell into an over-sized chair with an easy grin. He seemed fine, but Harry would've liked to learn about the fight. Lucius Malfoy wasn't someone he trusted, even if he was Draco's father.

"I haven't been here all day. I left and came back."

An awkward silence followed her statement. Hermione and Draco had no idea how to talk to each other. As the common bond that forced them together, Harry felt it was his responsibility to instil some form of comfort, but he was at a loss. He sat beside Hermione as silent as his guests.

It was Hermione who finally spoke and her question was directed at Draco alone.

"How's your mother?"

Draco lowered his eyes. "Tired, weak, but all right overall. Thanks to you."

"She's very strong."

"She is," Draco agreed. "Hermione, I have to ask you. How are you all right with all this? Me and Harry? Treating my mother?"

Hermione shrugged. "It is what it is, Draco. Your mother needed help so I helped her. Truthfully, I've grown to like her. As for you and Harry, I didn't see it coming, but it seems to work for both of you. I can see that you're good for Harry. I think he's good for you, too."

"He is," Draco replied, looking to Harry with a smile.

"Now, let me ask a question," Hermione said, glancing between them. "How come I had to find out about this be sitting on you? Are you two planning on hiding this forever?"

Draco looked surprised. Giving him a slight reprieve, Harry answered first. After all, he was used to Hermione's intrusive questions.

"We've never talked about that." He shrugged. "Besides, I haven't really got anyone to tell now that you know. But I don't care who knows. I'm not ashamed, if that's what you're getting at, but I don't feel the need to broadcast my life to the world either. And I wouldn't tell anyone without knowing how Draco felt about it. You have to admit, Hermione, this is a little unorthodox."

"Draco?" Hermione asked.

He squirmed, refusing to look at either of them.

"You don't have to answer," Harry said, shooting Hermione a warning glance.

"It's all right. I'm not ashamed of what we're doing. I need you to know that, Harry, but I'm more hesitant to talk about it. You're both painfully aware of how traditional my parents are. They've changed some since the war, but you can't expect miracles. I don't know how they'd respond to this, if they could accept it at all. I love them; I don't want to lose them. And with Mother so ill, I don't want to chance upsetting her. Please, don't hate me, Harry."

"Why would I hate you? You have priorities in your life besides me. I really don't care if this becomes public knowledge or not. Don't feel you have to make some big revelation because of me. I can respect what you and your parents need, Draco."

He smiled gratefully at him.

"I really wish I could do more for your mother, Draco," Hermione said. "You shouldn't be afraid to talk to her because of some illness. I should've been able to help her. That was the point of becoming a Healer."

"You have helped her, Hermione," Draco assured her. "You've done so much for us, even with your boss hounding you to stop. Mother would be dead now, if it wasn't for you. And you've been kind to her throughout. Most people treat us with such disdain. I appreciate everything you've done for her. My whole family is in your debt."

"But I can't save her," Hermione's voice broke.

"That's not your fault. Only one person can save her and she's choosing to let her die."

"I've talked to Andromeda about the transfusions," Harry spoke up. "The last time, I even told her she was dishonoring Tonks be lettering her aunt die. It was like I physically attacked her and it did nothing to change her mind. I felt like an arse for it though. Even took me a few weeks to get up enough courage to go see Teddy again."

"Who's Tonks?" Draco asked.

Harry grinned. "Your cousin. Daughter of Andromeda and Ted Tonks. Full name: Nymphadora Tonks, but she hated her given name. Even her husband had to call her Tonks. Her parents called her Dora. She was full of life and loads of fun. You'd have liked her, Draco."

"That was harsh, Harry," Hermione said, returning the conversation to its original origins.

"Letting your sister die is pretty harsh, too. It's not like I lied. If Tonks was here, she'd have her blood tested and want her mother to do the same. She loved life. She wouldn't want her aunt to die. Well, maybe her Aunt Bellatrix, but that's a whole different scenario."

"I didn't say you were wrong. I agree that Tonks would want her to help. I just don't know if using her daughter as a weapon was a good idea. She's still mourning. With a loss like hers, she might be mourning for the rest of her life. Throwing that grief in her face can't help your cause."

"Maybe it was a bad idea," Harry admitted, "but I don't have any good ones. Apparently, neither does anyone else since nothing's happening. So I tried to reach her though her daughter. It's not like I can make things any worse."

"Thank you for trying, Harry," Draco said.

"I had to try something. Your mum doesn't deserve this. You don't deserve this."

"Thank you," Draco repeated. "Can you tell me more about Tonks?"

The question surprised Harry, and by the look on her face, it surprised Hermione, too. But instead of questioning him, they simply obliged. They talked long into the night, sharing stories of the spunky witch who'd been a great friend to both Harry and Hermione.

**AN:** Thanks for all the get well wishes guys. Feeling a bit better today so I decided you should have an update. :)


	35. I Can't

_Read it all, no need for separating here._

_You see what you want and try to justify._

_All your little lines,_

_Convictions and your lies._

_What right do you have to point at me?_

_Well, I'm sitting alone thinking about it all over coffee._

_And still crowdin' my space are the things you still hold against me._

_You cannot save me._

_Breakdown ~ Daughtry_

Fall was pushing summer away and a cool breeze ruffled Andromeda's hair as she walked through the familiar cemetery with her grandson in her arms. Each grave marker brought her nearer to her family - what was left of them anyway.

As she drew closer to the cluster of graves that was now home to her husband and daughter, she stopped short, startling Teddy so his grip tightened around her neck. Someone was already there. Standing close to her daughter's grave with his head lowered was a young blonde who'd she recognize anymore. Even from behind, it was impossible to mistake his identity.

Stepping closer, she tightened her hold on Teddy.

"Draco."

He jumped, startled by her sudden appearance. His eyes widened as if he was afraid of her.

"Uh, how do you know me?" he asked, looking entirely unsure of himself. Good thing Lucius wasn't there to see his son's awkwardness. Such things simply weren't permitted in pureblood families.

"You look like your father." She couldn't stop herself from smiling. "But I can see your mother in you, too."

Draco didn't reply, not even with a nasty glare. Surely he hated her.

"Do you know who I am?' she asked.

He nodded. "You look like Bell-"

"Don't remind me," she cut him off. Her tone was sharper than she intended, but she hated being compared to her elder sister, the woman who murdered her daughter. She didn't want that name uttered over Dora's grave.

"Oh. Yeah. Right. Sorry." Draco looked away.

Andromeda watched him. She'd known him less than five minutes and he'd yet to speak a full sentence, but already Draco Malfoy was proving to be very different than she expected. He showed none of his father's arrogance, which Remus once told her he possessed. His temper was even enough since he wasn't pointing a wand at her. By all accounts, he seemed like a sad little boy. Not at all what one would expect from the heir of Lucius Malfoy.

Teddy squirmed in her arms, moving to stare at Draco. He seemed to find his cousin fascinating and continued to study him when their conversation resumed.

"Why are you here, Draco?"

He faced her again, with the tiniest of smiles. "I've gotten close to some of Dora's friends lately." He shrugged. "I've learned a lot about her. I think I'd have liked her. It's a shame we never met."

His words shocked her to the point where she had no reply. She didn't know what she expected him to say, but that wasn't it. What possible friends could he share with her daughter? They hardly ran in the same circles.

"I can go," Draco offered, turning his eyes to the ground. "I didn't know you'd be here."

"It's fine," she said, surprising even herself. "I suppose you're family."

He snorted. "Like that means anything."

She wasn't sure if he was hurt or angry, but either way there were no words to help him. He was right. Yet she suspected it meant something to him. Otherwise, why would he be there?

"It's supposed to," she said.

"Well, it doesn't. Not in our world. Certainly not to you."

The remark stung, but she couldn't deny that it was justified. She took a deep breath, preparing herself to talk about Narcissa, yet again. She'd really brought this on herself by asking him to stay. How could he not bring up his mother?

"How is she?"

It was a stupid question that was bound to enrage him, but she genuinely wanted to know. Despite popular opinion, she wasn't a heartless bitch. Narcissa was invading her thoughts more and more, especially since Harry threw Dora into the equation. She didn't want her sister to die. She just couldn't bring herself to save her. Her reasoning was flawed; she understood that, but seemed unable to do anything about it.

"I didn't think you cared," Draco predictably snapped.

The sharpness in his voice caused Teddy to bury his head in her shoulder and whimper. For a child being raised around people with as many anger issues as her and Harry, he sure hated raised voices.

Draco glanced at Teddy with an expression of regret. He looked like he wanted to comfort him, but remained still.

"I care," she said simply.

"If you cared, you'd help her." His voice was strained as he struggled not to yell, determined not to upset Teddy again.

"It's not that simple, Draco."

"Yeah, actually, it is. I'm used to complicated, but that's not what this is. She needs your help or she's going to die. If you cared, even a little bit, you wouldn't just let her die."

"I'm sorry. This isn't what I want."

"I really don't care. Do you think this is what I want? What Mother wants? Sorry isn't going to cut it. Sorry isn't going to keep my mother alive. If you're so damn sorry, do something about it." Despite his growing fury, he kept his voice even.

"I can't." Tears came to her eyes.

"You can."

She tore her eyes away from him, looking to her daughter's grave, remembering why she died. Remembering that Narcissa supported it. She couldn't be the one to save her - but she was the only one.

She looked back to her nephew, thinking of him that way for the first time. He really did look more like a boy than a man. Even with everything he'd been through, was still going through; his eyes hadn't hardened like his father's - like her own. She found herself liking him, wishing she could bring herself to fix his world.

"I hate you," he whispered. A direct contradiction to the warm feelings she had towards him. The words should've sounded childish, but they didn't. Under the circumstances, they were perfectly rational. How else could he feel about her?

"I know," she replied.

Rubbing at his eyes, Draco brushed away tears she never saw. He nodded as if realizing there was nothing left to be said. Defeat was etched into his face.

"I should go," he said. "I'm sorry. We never should've discussed this here or in front of your grandson."

He turned to leave, but then stopped, looking back at her with no longer concealed tears. Despite his best efforts, he couldn't walk away. She wasn't surprised.

"Please," he whimpered. "She's my mother. Please, don't let her die. I'll do anything."

Pain surged through her chest; she swore her heart was actually breaking. Her throat closed and she couldn't speak. How could she do this to him? But how could she forget the reasons her own family was gone?

Consumed by guilt and confusion, she held Teddy tightly and ran, allowing her own tears to fall on her grandson's soft hair.

Draco didn't follow.


	36. Let's Talk About Love

_There might have been a time_

_When I would give myself away_

_(Ooh) Once upon a time_

_I didn't give a damn_

_But now here we are_

_So whataya want from me_

_Whataya want from me_

_Just don't give up_

_I'm workin' it out_

_Please don't give in_

_I won't let you down_

_It messed me up, need a second to breathe_

_Just keep coming around_

_Hey, whataya want from me_

_Whataya want from me_

_Whataya want from me_

_Whataya Want From Me ~ Adam Lambert_

His mother's slender fingers trailed through his hair while her other arm hung over his shoulders. It had been years since he sat with her on the sofa, allowing her to hold him like a child, but now he could deny her nothing. One day soon, memories of these moments were all he'd have left of her.

"You're quiet," she said. "What are you thinking about?"

His thoughts had turned to his disastrous encounter with Andromeda. He'd made Teddy cry and upset her so badly she ran away. Now she hated him and was even less likely to change her mind. Even Harry would be mad that he scared Teddy. There was no way he'd tell his mother about any of that.

"Quidditch," he lied. It was possibly the lamest lie he'd ever told. Yet if he'd said it to anyone else, they'd have believed him. There weren't many things he was good at, but lying was one of the few.

She laughed. "Of course you are, and I'm thinking about interest rates." She pulled him closer. "Sweetheart, why do you even try lying to me?"

He shrugged. "Habit. It works on everyone else." Although he suspected lying to Harry would be equally difficult.

"You're thinking about your girlfriend?"

"Well, I am now," he teased, turning to smile up at her.

She looked tired, thin and sick. He hated to see her that way.

"Tell me about her."

Looking away, Draco settled his head against her chest. With a sigh, he searched his mind for some detail to share with her, but nothing felt right. He'd actually have preferred to talk about interest rates.

"I don't know what to say," he admitted.

"What does she look like?"

He considered describing a female version of Harry, but couldn't do it. It felt disrespectful to both his mother and Harry. So far he'd managed to avoid directly lying to her about his relationship and he wanted to keep it that way. He owed them both that much.

"When we're together I can't see straight."

Lame and sappy, but sadly true.

"You sound like Lucius when we were younger."

Draco laughed. "I can't imagine Father saying anything that sentimental."

"He has to me." She rested her chin on his head. "He even wrote a poem or two when we were in school, but don't ever tell him I told you."

"How did you fall in love?" The question surprised him since he never intended to ask it. Yet he really wanted to hear the answer.

"Your father decided he was in love with me first. I don't know what attracted him, but I didn't return his affections." She chuckled. "Actually, I thought he was an arrogant, egotistical prat, which I told him frequently."

"I'm sure he loved that."

"He took it in stride. He also turned into a bit of a stalker. As you know, Malfoys aren't used to hearing the word no. Anyway, I won't embarrass poor Lucius by telling you the stunts he pulled to win my heart, but I will tell you that none of them worked. I was amused and grew to like him, but not love him."

"Something must've worked. You're not going to tell me you've been under the Imperious Curse all these years, are you?"

She laughed, hitting him gently.

"No. I love Lucius, and I love him of my own free will. Even your father wouldn't go that far to secure a wife. But it wasn't his lavish gestures that changed my mind about him; it was the softness in his nature, the way he took care of me when I needed it."

Draco turned to face her with an expression of shock. This sounded familiar. He thought of himself sobbing in Harry's arms.

"It was almost Christmas," she went on. "Andromeda left a few weeks earlier and Bella had just taken the Dark Mark. I'd grown-up with two sisters and they were both suddenly gone. I still talked to Bella, but it wasn't the same. And my parents were entirely focused on them. They were furious with Andromeda and bursting with pride for Bella. I was invisible and I was not used to being invisible."

"But you weren't invisible to Father."

"No, I wasn't. I didn't let on that anything was wrong at school. No one suspected, except Lucius. He spent the weeks leading up to Christmas making me feel special. He stayed with me, talked to me, and annoyed the hell out of until I confided in him. He saw what I was trying to hide. He became exactly what I needed and I loved him for it. He's been exactly what I've needed ever since and I've never stopped loving him."

Draco wondered if someday he'd have a similar story. Harry was exactly what he needed while he was going through hell. Would this experience bind them forever the way it had his parents? He hoped it would. He couldn't help smiling at the thought.

"You got me off topic," his mother scolded with mock sternness. "We're supposed to be talking about your love life, not mine."

"But yours is more interesting," he insisted with a grin.

"Honestly, Draco," she sighed. "Why are you so resistant about this? You know, I'd like to meet this girl."

"I-I don't know," he stammered. He hadn't expected that. He didn't want to refuse her, but he couldn't do what she was asking for her own sake.

"Sweetheart," she tightened her hold on his shoulders, "I don't know what you're afraid of, but you don't have to hide anything from me. I'd never judge you or your girlfriend. I love you, and I'll love any girl who makes you happy."

_What about any boy?_ he mused.

There was humor in this awkward situation. He'd be laughing hysterically if it were happening to someone else. But it was happening to him and he wasn't amused. Actually, he was panicked, trapped, and desperate not to hurt his mother.

"Unless it's Lucius and I you're ashamed of," she said softly, hurt evident in her voice. "I know we didn't make the best choices and you paid for them."

"Don't ever say that," he snapped, sitting up, pulling out of her grasp. "How can you even think it? I'm not ashamed of you, Mother or of Father. I love you. I'm proud of you and grateful for every sacrifice you made on my behalf."

"I didn't mean to upset you." She pulled him back into her arms and he didn't resist. "I know you love me, Draco. I've never doubted that. I love you, too, more than anything."

"Why is it so important you meet?"

Of course, he didn't tell her that she'd already met his _girlfriend_ a couple of times, even threatened _her _life once or twice. Although the memories of those meetings served to send chills down his back.

"Normally, I wouldn't push this, Draco. I've always tried to respect what you need. But I want to meet the girl who's taking care of you. I want to know that you have someone before I'm gone. Sweetheart, I don't have much time left."

He tensed in her arms.

"Please, don't talk about that."

"Not talking about it isn't going to make it go away. I'm dying, Draco."

"I know that," he whispered, trying to hold back tears. "I'm not Father. I'm not in denial. I know I'm going to lose you. I just can't bear to talk about it. I-I don't want to lose you."

"I know, sweetheart." She hugged him, refusing to let go. "I don't want to leave you. I don't have a choice."

"I love you," he said. "I don't like keeping this part of my life from you."

"Just think about it," she replied. "How bad could it be?"

_The shock could kill you. Father could try to kill him._

"I will," he promised.

As their conversation died, he remained in her arms and did just that. He thought about what she wanted, what he wanted, and how little time they had left. If he was ever going to tell her about Harry, it had to be soon.


	37. A Son's Lament

_That I would be loved even when I numb myself_

_That I would be good even when I am overwhelmed_

_That I would be loved even when I was fuming_

_That I would be good even if I was clingy_

_That I Would Be Good ~ Alanis Morissette_

Lounging in his living room, Harry waited for Draco with a goofy grin on his face. Thanks to Hermione's unscheduled visit the night before, he hadn't been with Draco since the night Narcissa nearly died and that hardly resembled their usual escapades. He was thinking of all the things he wanted to do to Draco when a soft pop announced his arrival.

"Please, don't be Hermione," he said, afraid to look behind him in case his visitor really wasn't Draco.

Instead of responding with words, like a sensible person, Draco walked around the sofa and jumped him, knocking the air from Harry's lungs. Before he could catch his breath, Draco's lips were pushing into his, biting at him teasingly.

"Definitely not Hermione," Harry said, breathing heavily when Draco allowed him to come up for air.

Draco smirked.

"Well, I see we're in the same frame of mind," Harry continued. "Let's go to bed."

Shaking his head, Draco lay atop him so their faces were only inches apart. "I need to talk to you first."

Already feeling the beginnings of an errection, Harry groaned. "I don't want to talk." His voice was whiny, but he really didn't care.

Chuckling, Draco nibbled Harry's pouting lip. "Me either, but it's important."

The seriousness in his tone frightened Harry. He stared into familiar grey eyes, but as always, they gave nothing away.

"Are you leaving me?" he blurted out.

He'd always known it was a possibility, even a probability. Draco had always been loyal to his family and heritage, neither of which was likely to support what they had. And with the additional stress of his mother's health, their relationship just might not be worth it to him.

"Yes," Draco replied, shaking his head, "and I just jumped you like a wild animal to prove how serious I am about it. Of course, I'm not leaving, you prat." He smiled. "I wouldn't give you up for anything."

Harry relaxed. His breath returned to normal as he smiled back.

"What's so important then?"

Draco lowered his head so it was resting on Harry's shoulder. Harry could feel his breath against his neck. Having Draco so close and not being able to do anything about it was driving him nuts.

"I want to know what Hermione said when she first found out about us. How'd you get her to accept us?"

Harry felt his eyes bulge in disbelief. "Seriously? I want to ravage you and you want to talk about Hermione? That's what you call important?"

"Yes," Draco said, and then added, "Please, Harry." He sounded genuinely desperate.

"She was upset," he sighed, "but a lot of that probably had to do with you being naked. She was mad because I didn't tell her more than anything else. She accepted it when she realized I wasn't drunk and I told her you were the reason why. You're good for me and she sees that."

"Did you mean it when you told Hermione that you didn't care who knew about us or were you just trying to shut her up?"

"I meant it," he replied, making a point to stare into Draco's eyes. "You make me happy. I don't care who knows it. What's this about? Did you tell someone? It's okay if you did."

"I didn't, at least, not yet."

Saying nothing, Harry tried to give Draco an encouraging smile.

Draco sighed, lowering his head to Harry's shoulder again. "I'm thinking about telling Mother, which means telling Father, too."

"Okay," Harry said.

"Okay?" Draco moved to stare at him. "That's all you have to say about it."

"I'm not sure what I'm supposed to say here, Draco. I don't have parents to explain these things to. I'm okay if you want to tell yours. What else is there to say?"

"Don't you even want to know why I'm considering it?"

Harry stretched his neck so he could quickly brush his lips against Draco's. "I want to know, if you want to tell me."

"Mother's upset. She wants to know who I'm with every night. She doesn't understand why I won't tell her and it's hurting her. She even suggested that I was ashamed of her."

"I'm sorry."

"She asked to meet you."

"I'm probably not what she's expecting." Harry grinned. He could feel the tension in Draco's body as it rested on his own. He knew the stupid joke wouldn't help, but he didn't know what would.

"I'd think not. I'm scared, Harry. I don't know what to do. I'm hurting her, but telling her the truth might hurt her even more. I-I don't want her to be ashamed of me."

Harry wanted to reassure him, promise him that Narcissa would understand, but he couldn't do it. His interactions with her were limited. He knew she loved her son, would die for him. He also knew she was an aristocratic, pureblood who would frown on this kind of relationship out of instinct. There was no way for him to know if love or nature would make this choice for her. He suspected love. She'd lied to the Dark Lord for Draco. It seemed impossible that she'd turn away from him over something as trivial as this. But he'd seen stranger things happen and he didn't want to risk Draco's relationship with his mother on a hunch.

"I wish I knew what to tell you."

"I want to tell her," Draco admitted with a nod. "And she's pointed out that I might not have much time left with her. I love her and I want to know that she'll still love me, knowing the truth. I don't want her to die thinking I don't trust her."

"If you tell her, you'll both have answers."

"But what if they're not answers we can live with?"

"She loves you," Harry offered hopelessly.

"I love her, too. The worst of this is, I could lose more than her love. I could lose her. She's gotten so weak. What if this is too much for her?"

Harry took his hand. "She's strong, just like her son."

"She's stronger than me."

"Don't underestimate yourself."

"Should I tell her?" Draco asked, ignoring the compliment.

"I don't know." Harry squeezed his hand. "I can't make this decision for you, but I can promise to be there for you, no matter what you decide."

"I knew you would be." Draco smiled, getting to his feet and pulling Harry with him.

"What are you doing?"

"Taking you to bed. You promised to ravish me."

"But what did you decide?" Harry asked, trailing along behind him.

"That I'll think better after I've been shagged."


	38. Insecurities

_I can't stop, can't fight, can't resist it_

_When the wrong one loves you right_

_(Oh-oh-oh-oh-yeah)_

_Can't run - can't hide - can't say no_

_When the wrong ones loves you right_

_(Oh-oh-oh oh)_

_When the wrong ones loves you right_

_When the Wrong One Loves You Right ~ Celine Dion_

Being on-call at the hospital was dreadfully boring. It meant having no actual appointments and being there for drop-ins. So unless Narcissa Malfoy had another emergency, and Hermione sincerely hoped she didn't, her day would mostly be filled by wandering the drab halls of St. Mungos. But it could be worse; at least, she hadn't been sacked for what Toadface called her unscheduled vacation.

Her footsteps echoed as she wandered down deserted hallways. As she passed closed doors, she heard murmurs of conversations, but little more. Susan had appointments scheduled all day, leaving Hermione alone with her boredom. She almost wished George would blow his fingers off again so she'd have something to do.

As her body rambled aimlessly, her mind did, too. She thought of Narcissa, her pallid skin and tired eyes. How many more times could she save her? She shuddered at the thought.

Not wanting to dwell on an illness she couldn't beat, Hermione let her thoughts stray to Harry and Draco. She smirked. If she could go back in time and tell their younger selves what she'd seen them doing, they'd die of shock. If anything proved change was inevitable, it was Harry and Draco.

Thinking about Harry's unexpected romance caused Hermione's thoughts to turn to her own. She smiled at the thought of George. She smiled even harder when she saw him strolling towards her with a goofy grin.

"What are you doing here?" she asked. "Are all your fingers attached? You know, you really don't have to do that anymore. You've got my attention."

"All fingers are in their rightful place," he announced cheerfully, pecking her on the cheek.

"Then how come your hand's behind your back?"

Grinning like a little boy, he held out his hand to reveal a beautiful bouquet of roses, enchanted to flash different colors. She'd never seen flowers do that before and suspected the spell was a George Weasley original.

"They're beautiful," she told him, accepting the flowers and offering him a quick kiss. "Thank you."

"I'm glad you like them. I really just came by to drop them off. If you're busy, I can go."

She snorted. "Do I look busy to you? I've been walking through these corridors looking at blank walls for my entire shift. Soon I'll be trying to talk to Luna's Nargles. Walk with me, please." She took his hand. "Unless you have to get back to the shop."

"Verity has everything under control," he told her, falling in step beside her.

"Has she said anything?" Hermione asked. "About us? She was there the night we were together and the next day when we were fighting. She must be curious."

George shrugged. "If she's curious, she hasn't asked me about it. Honestly, I doubt she cares. She's my employee, not my friend. Why? Are you embarrassed?"

"Yes." She giggled. "Verity saw me just before I practically raped you and overheard me trying to apologize for running away when I was through. That qualifies as embarrassing, George."

"You can't rape the willing," he teased. "You have nothing to be embarrassed about. Verity has plenty of questionable sexual exploits of her own. She has no room to judge."

"I still feel weird around her."

"Well, you shouldn't. And while we're on the topic of your insecurities, I talked to Mum about dinner."

"I'm not insecure," she argued, bumping up against him. "I just don't want your employee to think I'm a slut."

"No one thinks you're a slut, Hermione. That's just ridiculous."

She sighed. "Just tell me about the dinner plans."

"Wednesday night. Mum is thrilled you're coming. She'll make a huge feast. Percy, Ginny and Dean are coming, too. Everyone's missed you, you know."

Hermione frowned. "I thought it was just going to be your parents."

"What's the big deal?" George eyed her suspiciously. "It's just Percy, Ginny and Dean. It's not like we invited Rita Skeeter."

"The big deal is I'm nervous about this," she snapped, pulling her hand out of his. "You knew that. I don't know how your parents are going to react when we tell them about us. If they're upset, I don't want an audience." She stopped walking and glared at him.

"Stop worrying." George placed his hands on her shoulders. "No one expected you to become a nun after Ron died, except you. Mum and Dad'll be happy for us. So will the rest of the family, you'll see."

"How can they be?" she cried. "Ron was my fiancé. Now I'm dating his brother."

"There's nothing wrong with that. Does being with me feel wrong to you?"

"No," she admitted.

"And it won't feel wrong to anyone else either. Everything is going to work out fine, you'll see."

His disarming smile and unwavering confidence wore her down. As she stared into his sparkling eyes, she couldn't imagine anything going wrong in the world. She was about to tell him so when they were interrupted by a cold voice.

"So, Miss. Granger is this what has you missing shifts?" Toadface drawled.

"Yes," she replied, keeping her voice equally cold. "I spent some time with my boyfriend. Irresponsible, but true. I was also treating my patient, Narcissa Malfoy."

"Narcissa Malfoy isn't a patient here."

"We'll have to disagree on that." Hermione shrugged. "Is there something you wanted?"

"Only to remind you that you're on duty, which means you shouldn't be carrying on with a suitor in the halls."

Raising her wand, she zapped Hermione's flowers into oblivion.

"Hey," George cried. "That spell took me weeks."

"Then I'm sure you'll remember how to duplicate it. In the future, it might serve you well to remember that a hospital is no place for courting."

"We were neither carrying on nor courting," Hermione snapped. "We were talking."

"Well, you shouldn't be doing that while you're on duty either. Mr. Weasley, leave, now."

Furious, Hermione pulled George into a very long, passionate kiss. She heard Toadface grunting beside them.

"I'll see you later," she told George when they pulled apart. "And thanks for the flowers."

"Something has to be done about your boss, Hermione," he whispered. "Just like her sister."

Hermione couldn't even think of a response before he Disapparated.


	39. Confession

_Fear is how I fall  
Confusing what is real_

_There's something inside me that pulls beneath the surface_  
_Consuming/confusing_  
_This lack of self-control I fear is never ending_  
_Controlling/I can't seem_

_To find myself again_  
_My walls are closing in_  
_(without a sense of confidence and I'm convinced that there's just too much pressure to take)_  
_I've felt this way before_  
_So insecure_

_Crawling ~ Linkin Park_

_Harry,_

_As much as I know you'll miss me, I can't see you tonight. I'm sure you're crying buckets right now, but it can't be avoided._

_Harry, I'm going to tell my parents about us. I can't keep doing this to Mother. If I have to hurt her, I'd rather it be with the truth. Maybe the truth won't upset her, after all. I like to believe that she loves me enough to accept me - accept us._

_As for my father, if he happens to show-up at your flat tonight, Disapparate to Hermione's. You know, just to be safe._

_I'll Miss You_

_Draco_

Reading the note back, Draco was satisfied, if not pleased, with his words. He'd kept the beginning and the end light, in hopes Harry wouldn't worry, but he couldn't deny his fears about his mother.

He tied the parchment to the leg of one of the family owls and sent him on his way.

With a deep sigh, he started towards the dining room for dinner. For the first time in months, he faced the meal without the anticipation of seeing Harry later. Instead, he'd be testing the limits of his parents' love.

When he arrived at the dining table, his parents were already seated and a plate of pasta waited for him. One look at his parents and he knew they'd been fighting, probably about using the Imperious Curse on Andromeda.

Brilliant. He'd just committed himself to delivering an earth shattering confession to them and they were already cranky.

"You're late," Lucius grumbled as Draco slid into his seat.

"Sorry, Father. I was sending an owl."

"And you couldn't wait until after dinner?"

"Leave him alone, Lucius," Narcissa snapped, glaring at him. "You're mad at me not Draco. Don't take it out on him."

Draco moved the noodles around his plate. He couldn't imagine taking a single bite. His stomach was already reacting to the stress of the evening.

"I'm not mad at you," Lucius finally said. "I just wish you weren't so stubborn. Your loyalty is misplaced in her. She's made it clear that she doesn't care what happens to you. Why are you protecting her?"

That confirmed Draco's hunch that they were fighting about Andromeda. His father still refused to speak her name as if she was the next Dark Lord. She was certainly cruel enough.

"I'm protecting you, too, Lucius," Narcissa replied. "You know that. We've had this conversation so many times. I'm not going to change my mind. Now can we please just eat in peace?"

Draco was surprised when his father left it alone. The rest of the meal was eaten in silence. While his parents seethed at each other, Draco worried about the conversation he had to initiate after dinner. He didn't eat more than two bites and the food tasted like ash in his mouth.

When they left the dining table, adjourning to the setting room, he noticed his parents' plates remained full as well. Apparently no one felt like eating.

Once in the setting room, he collapsed on the sofa beside his mother while his father fixed a drink.

"Shouldn't you be going to your girlfriend's, Draco?" Narcissa asked as Lucius sat in the chair across from them.

"Not tonight." Once the words left his lips a shiver went through his spine. He'd just reached the point of no return and he was terrified. "Actually, I'd like to talk to you about that relationship. Mother, you've been asking and I'm ready to tell you."

"Finally, some good news," Lucius said with a grin. Draco felt a hint of guilt, knowing his words would wipe away that grin soon enough.

"Sweetheart, that's wonderful," Narcissa gushed, taking his hand, and increasing the guilt gnawing at his conscience.

"I'm not sure where to start," he admitted, looking down at his hands. He'd decided to talk about the relationship before revealing who it was with in hopes that would make it easier for them to accept. If they knew how much this meant to him, they might respond better.

"Just talk, sweetheart." His mother squeezed his hand.

He took a deep breath and just let the words come.

"When this started, I didn't expect it to go anywhere or mean anything. I actually expected to be rejected before anything started, but I wasn't. I've never felt happier or more accepted. This whole relationship has been the most amazing surprise of my life. It's the only reason I've been able to get thought Mother's illness. This is really important to me. Otherwise, I wouldn't be telling you about it."

Lucius chuckled. It was the first time Draco saw him relaxed in days. His stomach lurched.

"All right, Draco," he said. "You're smitten. We understand. Does Miss. Amazing Surprise have a name?"

"Don't tease him," Narcissa scolded, but her voice was light.

There were enjoying this, expecting a happy revelation, their greatest fear that he might be dating a Muggle-Born. The way they'd been responding to Hermione, he'd have preferred that confession. As it was, he was about to suck all the humor from the room.

"That's just it," he said softly. "There isn't a Miss. Anything. I'm romantically involved with a man - with Harry Potter."

Once the words were out, there was no taking them back. Despite the fear that ripped through his body, he felt relief, too. No matter what happened, he didn't have to hide this anymore.

The room was silent, more silent than he ever remembered it being. He wasn't even sure his parents were still breathing. It took him a few minutes to get up the courage to face them, unsure of what he'd see.

He looked to his mother first, searching for signs this was affecting her health. There were none. Her expression revealed shock, nothing more. When he looked into her eyes, they still showed her love for him. Relief flooded through him. He hadn't lost her. His confession hadn't killed her. She still loved him. They even shared a small smile before Draco turned his attention to his father.

Lucius' facial expression looked nothing like his wife's. His face was twisted into a mask of fury and disgust. He refused to meet Draco's eyes.

"F-Father?" he said, his voice cracking.

Not responding, Lucius rose from his chair and approached the sofa. At first, Draco thought he was going to strike him, even though he'd never done it before. He paid Draco no heed, taking Narcissa's free hand.

"Are you all right?" he asked. "Do you feel weak? Anything?"

"I'm fine," she told him, pulling her hand away. "Talk to your son."

Staring at her, wide-eyed, he shook his head. "I can't."

"Father, please," Draco pleaded, but Lucius still refused to look at him.

"Lucius."

"I can't," he repeated. "Are you sure you're all right, Narcissa?"

"Yes."

Lucius took a deep breath. "Will you be all right if I go out, just for a little while?"

"What about our son?"

"Narcissa, please." His voice was strained. "I need to go."

"Fine," she said coldly. "I'll be perfectly fine. Draco's with me. Remember, our son?"

Before Draco could speak, there was a crack and his father was gone. Tears stung his eyes as his mother pulled him into her arms.


	40. A Mother's Love

_I'll stand by you_

_I'll stand by you_

_Won't let nobody hurt you_

_I'll stand by you_

_So if you're mad, get mad_

_Don't hold it all inside_

_Come on and talk to me now_

_Hey, what you got to hide?_

_I get angry too_

_Well I'm a lot like you_

_When you're standing at the crossroads_

_And don't know which path to choose_

_Let me come along_

_'cause even if you're wrong_

_I'll stand by you_

_I'll stand by you_

_Won't let nobody hurt you_

_I'll stand by you_

_Take me in, into your darkest hour_

_And I'll never desert you_

_I'll stand by you_

_I'll Stand By You ~ The Pretenders_

Holding Draco in her arms, Narcissa tried to work through what had just happened. This wasn't the first time her son sprung shocking news on her, but she didn't think she'd ever get used to it.

Harry Potter. She couldn't deny the two had always been connected, but most of that connection had been unpleasant. Or so she'd thought.

Shaking her head, she realized it didn't matter. Obviously Draco's relationship with Harry had changed. The only thing that mattered in that moment was that her baby was hurting. Damn Lucius. So much for always being there for their son.

"Come on, sweetheart," she said to Draco, getting to her feet and pulling him with her. "I'll make you some coco."

Draco grinned and she knew he was remembering the many times she'd made him coco in his youth. Scabbed knees, hurt feelings, broken toys: coco was always the answer.

"I don't think coco can fix this," he replied.

"No, but it can't hurt," she insisted, putting her arm around his shoulders and leading him to the kitchen.

He followed without further argument. She noticed he wasn't especially steady on his feet. There was no doubt he went through hell deciding to confide this to her and Lucius. His body was reacting to the stress and his father's cruel rejection. She almost felt guilty for pressuring him into this, but she was still glad she knew the truth.

"Sit," she told him, guiding him towards the small table where she'd shared an intimate breakfast with Lucius. Just thinking of her husband made her seethe with fury.

"You should sit. I'll make it."

She shot him a warning glare and he sat with a sigh.

A few minutes later, she sat a steaming mug in front of him. Sitting across from him, she sipped from her own mug. The sweet taste brought back countless memories from Draco's childhood. Watching him, she had to accept that he was no longer a boy.

"Thanks," he said, taking a drink and refusing to look at her.

She continued to watch him. His eyes remained downcast and his shoulders slumped. He looked sad and defeated. She wanted to fix everything for him, but didn't even know how to initiate a conversation, not when he looked so miserable. It was Draco who finally broke the silence.

"Are you ashamed of me?" He still wouldn't meet her eyes.

The question felt like a slap in the face. How could he think that? Was she such a failure as a mother that he really believed it?

"Draco, look at me," she said sharply.

He raised his perfect grey eyes to meet hers and they were brimming with tears.

"I am not ashamed of you, Draco. I don't want you to ever think that. Nothing you could do would ever make me ashamed of you. Do you understand me?"

He nodded and she saw some of the tension leave his body.

"Good. You surprised me tonight, Draco. I'm sorry if my initial reaction was poor, but who you choose to be with isn't going to change our relationship. I'll love and support you always."

"I love you, too."

"You were afraid to tell me?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"I didn't know what to expect. I was afraid you'd stop loving me, or worse, I was afraid the shock might affect your health."

Again, she felt like she'd been slapped. Stop loving him? She was more likely to stop breathing for the fun of it.

"That's ridiculous. I love you more than anything. Nothing can change that. Sweetheart, I thought you knew all this."

"I did," he sighed. "At least, I should have. I'm sorry I doubted you. This whole thing has just been so confusing."

"Well, you don't have to be confused about my love - ever. When I say you can tell me anything, I mean it, and that includes romantic relationships with Harry Potter."

Draco smiled. "You said his name."

She chuckled. "Well, yes. I suspect I'll be saying it quite a lot. He obviously means a lot to you."

"He does."

"This makes you happy then?"

"Very much."

"What about Harry? Does he feel the same?"

Draco hesitated but only briefly. It was long enough to tell her he had doubts, but he'd doubted her love as well, so she wouldn't judge Harry too harshly for that.

"He's happy. Even Hermione sees a change in him."

"Hermione?" Narcissa raised her eyebrows. "You two told Hermione before you told your own mother?"

Draco blushed, and then smirked. "We didn't tell her. She has this unfortunate habit of barging into Harry's flat. She saw something she really didn't want to see."

Narcissa laughed. Well, if someone had to find out that way, better Harry's best friend than Draco's mother - or worse his father.

"But after she got over the shock, she's been really great," Draco added.

"I'm not surprised. She's very understanding. You're lucky to have her as a friend."

"Yeah, I am."

"Sweetheart, I want to thank you for telling me all this. I know it wasn't easy for you. And I'm glad you have someone who makes you happy. I know my illness is hard on you; it's good you have someone to talk to."

"Thanks. I just wish Father felt the same way. He hates me."

Narcissa couldn't stop a glare from coming across her face. Damn Lucius for hurting him. He'd better bring his arse home with a big apology cake.

"Lucius doesn't hate you," she said. "He's certainly not behaving like a father right now, but he still loves you. He'll always love you."

Draco didn't respond, but walked around the small table and wrapped her in a hug.


	41. I Don't Know

_Yeah, yeah_

_I bet you haven't heard_

_A word I've said_

_Yeah, yeah_

_If you've had enough_

_Of all you're tryin'_

_Just give up_

_The state of mind you're in:_

_If you want to be somebody else,_

_If you're tired of fighting battles with yourself_

_If you want to be somebody else_

_Change your mind..._

_Change Your Mind ~ Sister Hazel_

The regal looking owl bit Harry's hand as he removed the parchment from its leg. Any doubt that he was dealing with a Malfoy owl evaporated with the first trace of blood. He suspected Lucius trained the beast to recognize non-purebloods and attack. Despite the assault, he gave the owl a treat before sending him on his way.

Reading Draco's note, Harry had no idea how to respond. Draco's lame attempts at humor did nothing to hide his fear. More than anything, Harry wanted to hold him and tell him everything was going to be okay, even if he was lying.

He hated the thought of Draco doing this alone, but it was the way it had to be. One look at him and Lucius would be throwing curses before Draco could open his mouth.

Sitting the letter aside, Harry realized he had no idea what to do with himself. His mind was filled with fears for Draco. And for the first time in months, he'd be spending the night alone with his thoughts.

The idea terrified him. He'd worry about Draco and if those thoughts somehow left his mind, he'd be consumed by the guilt that Draco kept away. He pictured the bottle of Firewhiskey, still tucked away in the bottom of his closet, but that wasn't what he wanted. He wanted a human distraction and he knew the perfect one.

Minutes later, he was knocking on a familiar door. Already the sky was fading to black and night air chilled his bones.

Andromeda opened the door with her usual smile, but her eyes were red and puffy. She'd obviously been crying. The polite thing would be to ask what was wrong. Polite, but pointless. Harry knew what was wrong. He also knew Andromeda was too stubborn to fix it.

"Harry." She looked perplexed by his appearance on her doorstep and rightfully so. Evenings were reserved for Draco, and before that drinking.

"Come in," she said, backing away from the door and trying to hide her surprise. "I was just putting Teddy to bed. You want to read him a story? He'd love it."

"Sure," Harry responded, although he was disappointed he'd get to spend so little time with his godson.

He entered Teddy's room with a well-worn copy of _Tales of Beedle the Bard_. Since becoming a godfather, he'd read every fairy tale numerous times, but the story of the three brothers remained his favorite.

"'Arry, 'Arry!" Teddy yelled.

"Lie back down, Teddy bear," he said with a laugh, positioning himself in Andromeda's rocking chair. "Don't get all excited. It's time for you to go to sleep."

"No sleep. Play with 'Arry."

"No," Harry replied, trying to sound firm, but failing miserably. "We can't play tonight. It's time for little teddy bears to go to sleep. I'll come back real soon and we can play then. For now, do you want me to read you a bedtime story?"

Teddy nodded as he cuddled under the blankets.

"What story do you want to hear?"

"'ollows."

Harry smiled. His godson favored the same tale he did. Of course, it was impossible to tell if Teddy really liked that story best or he just liked the way Harry read it. He could get into that tale like none of the others.

By the time Harry explained that the final brother greeted death like an old friend, Teddy was sound asleep and snoring softly. He closed the book, but he didn't leave right away. He sat, watching Teddy's tiny chest rise and fall. He was so innocent - so perfect - if only the rest of the world could be like him.

When he finally pulled himself away, he found Andromeda seated at the kitchen table, a cup of tea was waiting for him. He was surprised she wanted him to stick around.

He slid into a chair beside her and waited for her to speak. When minutes passed in silence, he knew he'd be the one to break it and there was only one thing he wanted to discuss with Andromeda.

"You've been crying. It's about Narcissa, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"Then just help her," he sighed. "I know you want to. Just do it, please."

She looked at him with an expression he couldn't read. He thought it was somewhere between sadness and anger, which made sense.

"Harry, we have this conversation nearly every time we meet. I know how you feel and I can understand you pleading my sister's case once. You're compassionate and you want her to have a chance. But you're obsessed with this, determined to save someone who's treated you with nothing but distain. Why? What is your connection to Narcissa?"

The question caught him off guard. He never expected Andromeda to realize he was more than a concerned onlooker. Taking a drink of tea, he debated his answer. What the hell? Draco was telling his parents. It wasn't really a secret anymore.

"At first, I just didn't want her to die," he began. "She did save my life, you know. I've always thought she deserved a second chance. But you're right; there's more to it than that."

He took a deep breath, realizing this was the first time he'd really told someone about Draco. Hermione didn't count since he didn't really have to tell her. She had a visual. Andromeda had no idea what he was about to confide in her.

"I've become romantically involved with Narcissa's son. I see the pain this is causing him every day. He loves his mother and I don't think he can bear to lose her."

Andromeda didn't respond. She stared into her tea cup, looking lost.

Harry felt a sense of foreboding. What if she was mad? What if she tried to keep Teddy from him?

"You must hate me," she finally whispered.

Harry felt his body relax.

"Of course, I don't hate you. You're like family to me. I hate what you're doing, but I could never hate you."

Silence again.

"So," Harry said, "I just told you I was involved with your nephew, whose mother you're warring with. You really have no comment on that?"

She smiled. "Harry, I was disowned from my family for following my heart. I allowed my only daughter to marry a werewolf nearly twice her age, without argument. Don't you think it would be a little hypocritical of me to judge you on this? If you're happy, I'm happy for you."

"Thanks." Harry returned her smile. "But what about Narcissa? Is there any chance you'll change your mind? Any at all?"

"I don't know, Harry."


	42. Parental Approval

_Sometimes is never quite enough_

_If you're flawless, then you'll win my love_

_Don't forget to win first place_

_Don't forget to keep that smile on your face_

_Be a good boy_

_Try a little harder_

_You've got to measure up_

_And make me prouder_

_How long before you screw it up_

_How many times do I have to tell you to hurry up_

_With everything I do for you_

_The least you can do is keep quiet_

_Perfect ~ Alanis Morissette_

Still mostly asleep, Draco reached out for Harry, but his hand found only rumpled bedding. Panicked, his eyes burst opened and he searched for his Harry. As he recognized his own bedroom, he remembered why he was waking up alone.

Sighing, he threw the covers to the floor and dressed without showering. Maybe he could convince Harry to join him for that daily chore later. The thought brought a smile to his face, despite his fear of facing his father.

When he'd gone to bed the night before, Lucius still hadn't returned. Rationally, he knew his father was getting sloshed and avoiding him. Still a small part of him worried for Harry's safety. His father had a wicked temper and a great hatred for Harry, even before he shared a bed with his son.

"Don't be a prat," he scolded himself as he left the room.

Down the hall, the door to his father's study was ajar. So he'd made it home. Standing in the hall, Draco was unsure what to do. He was still stinging from rejection, but he wanted to make it right. He didn't want his father to hate him.

Despite a strong urge to go the other way and seek out his mother, Draco slowly started down the hall. With each step, he could feel his body tensing a little more. He'd never feared his father, but he'd always hated earning his disapproval.

Stopping outside the door, he gathered his courage and knocked loudly. He could see Lucius, seated at the desk with the Prophet, through the crack. His father didn't look up or acknowledge the sound. Apparently his mother was downstairs; he'd never ignore her.

"Good morning, Father," he said, stepping into the study without permission for the first time in his life. His relationship with Harry was bringing about a lot of firsts for him.

Lucius tensed, but refused to look up.

"Father, please. We have to talk. Do you really plan to ignore me for the rest of our lives?"

No response.

"Okay," Draco sighed. "If you don't want to talk to me, you can still listen. I'm sorry this upsets you. I know I'm ignoring ancient family traditions and I know those traditions are important to you, but I think other things are important. He really makes me happy, Father. I hope someday you can be happy for me."

He waited, hoping his father would say something. Any response would be a start. Even anger would be better than stony silence, but Lucius didn't speak.

"I love you, Father," he said simply before leaving the room.

As he retreated down the hall, he half-expected his father to call him back, but the corridor remained silent aside from his own footsteps.

Downstairs he found his mother in the sitting room as expected. She greeted him with her usual smile. He didn't doubt what she'd told him. Nothing was going to change between them because of Harry or anything else.

"You look upset," she said as he sat beside her. "Is this Lucius' doing?"

"He still won't talk to me or even look at me."

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," she said. "He's being ridiculous. He won't even talk to me about it. Don't worry. I'll get him to talk. He'll get over it."

"I hope so."

"He will."

"I don't really feel like watching him ignore me all day," Draco admitted. "Besides Harry's going to be wondering how things went last night." He didn't mention how much he missed his lover after just one night without him. "I thought I might go over there, if it's all right with you. I know I'm usually home in the daytime, but it's really awkward right now."

"Of course, I don't mind." She smiled. "You didn't say it, but I know how much you miss him. Believe it or not, I still remember young love. Go see him."

"Thanks."

He kissed her on the cheek before Disapparating to a familiar bedroom.

The bed was disheveled, but empty. He was disappointed. He'd really hoped to climb under the covers with his Harry.

He found Harry in the living room with a cup of tea and a worried expression. He looked up and smiled as Draco entered the room and sat with him.

"What happened?" Harry asked, sitting the tea aside and pulling Draco into his arms. "You've got that unreadable expression."

"Mother's fine," he replied, resting his head on Harry's chest. "The news didn't kill her. Actually, she was amazing. I shouldn't have doubted her."

"Glad to hear it," Harry said, his lips only inches away from Draco's ear. "I thought she'd be okay, but I don't know her very well. I didn't think it was my place to make assumptions. It's obvious how much she loves you though. What about your father? He didn't come to murder me last night so I took that as a good sign."

Draco heard a hint of distain when Harry talked about his father, but it didn't annoy him. Harry had many valid reasons to hate him and he was about to give him one more.

"He was less accepting."

"How bad?"

"He left the house and didn't come back until I was asleep. He hasn't said a word or looked at me since I told him."

"I'm sorry, Draco." Harry held him tighter, stroking his hair. "I never wanted to come between you and your father."

"It's not your fault. It's his. I just hope he'll accept us in time. Mother's going to talk to him."

"Brave woman."

Draco was enjoying the feel of Harry's arms around him when a pop announced Hermione's arrival. He managed not to groan, but just barely.

"It this offends you, you better go, Hermione," he mumbled, "because I'm not moving."

"I've seen you naked. Why on earth would this offend me?"

"Touché."

"What's up, Hermione?" Harry asked, ignoring their exchange.

"I came to complain about dinner with the Weasleys, but it looks like Draco has bigger problems."

"No, dinner with the Weasleys is a pretty big problem," Draco muttered, still not moving his head from Harry's chest.

"Be nice," Harry chided him.

"Really, Draco, what's wrong? It's not your mother, is it?"

"Mother's fine," he said. "And if you really must know, I told her and Father about Harry last night. She was great. He hates me."

"He doesn't hate you," Harry said softly, ruffling his hair again. "He's still your father."

"Harry's right," Hermione added. "He'll come around. I've been with your family during some of your worst moments and it's always clear how much you love each other. He just needs to adjust."

"Sure," Draco replied, turning his head just enough to look at her. "So why are you so worried about dinner with the weasels?"

"Don't call them weasels, you great, white ferret," she snapped.

"Don't snap at me, cat girl."

They both laughed. It was the first time they'd squabbled without malice. It felt kind of nice.

"George and I are telling his family that we're together," Hermione told him. "I don't know how they'll react after Ron."

"Well, I hope you do better than me," Draco said. "One hundred percent parental approval must feel better than fifty percent."

"He'll come around," Hermione said again.

Everyone kept telling him that. He only wished he could believe them.


	43. Confrontation

_Just freak out, let it go  
I'm gonna live my life  
I can't ever run and hide  
I won't compromise  
Cause I'll never know  
I'm gonna close my eyes  
I can't watch the time go by  
I won't keep it inside  
Freak out, let it go  
Just freak out, let it go_

_You don't always have to do everything right_  
_Stand up for yourself_  
_And put up a fight_  
_walk around with your hands up in the air_  
_Like you don't care_

_Freak Out ~ Avril Lavigne_

The day passed slowly, but eventually turned to evening. When the sun finally faded from the sky, Narcissa was forced to conclude Draco wasn't coming home that night. Thanks to her husband, their son might never feel comfortable in his home again.

She spent the day being petty and childish to Lucius. When he spoke to her, she mostly ignored him. She wouldn't let him touch her, other than to carry her downstairs, which she reluctantly consented to after kicking him. Even through her rage, she had to admit, he was taking her tantrum well. Maybe he realized that he deserved her anger.

After dinner, she sat alone in the sitting room, sipping a glass of wine. Lucius attempted to talk to her about everything other than Draco, but she simply glared at him. Finally he retired to his study, telling her to call if she needed anything.

Acting like a petulant child didn't become Narcissa and she knew it. Despite her fury, she felt foolish ignoring her husband. Worse, this wasn't how she wanted to spend her last days. She no longer had time for a long drawn-out row with Lucius.

Once she was certain Draco wouldn't be coming home, she decided it was time to talk to Lucius about Draco, rather he was willing or not. She had to make him understand that he was hurting their son and he had to stop.

She sat the wine glass aside and slowly got to her feet. Dizziness hit her and she nearly had to sit back down. Closing her eyes, she waited for the unpleasant sensation to subside. Once it did, she took her first tentative steps towards the stairs.

Stopping at the foot of the staircase, she cursed the disease that caused her such weakness. For the first time since she became ill, she wanted nothing more than to fall to the floor and weep, but she pushed the urge aside. Self-pity wasn't going to get her anywhere.

The steps loomed in front of her like an unclimbable mountain. Just looking up made her bones cry out in exhaustion. One call to Lucius and he'd be there to help her, but her anger was too sharp to ask for his assistance.

She slowly began her progression up the stairs. After each step, she was forced to stop and allow the dizziness to pass. She had no idea how long it took, but she made it to the top.

Standing in the hall, trying to catch her breath, she eyed her bedroom with longing. Her body cried for rest and she could almost feel the silk sheets against her skin.

Once her breathing returned to normal, she pushed thoughts of the alluring bed away. She'd come up here to confront Lucius and that was exactly what she was going to do.

The door to the study stood wide open so he'd be sure to hear her if she called. She sighed. Why was it so hard for him to offer their son the same love and concern?

As she stepped into the room, Lucius dropped the book he was reading and stared at her - wide eyed.

"Bloody hell, Narcissa," he cried, jumping to his feet and rushing to her side. "What were you thinking? I know you're mad at me, but that's no reason to torture yourself. You should've called for me."

He reached for her arm, but she stepped away so that his fingers touched only air.

"At least, sit down," he sighed.

"No," she glared at him. "I didn't come in here to sit. We need to talk."

"We can talk and sit at the same time, dear. We've been doing it for years." He smirked.

"Don't smirk at me, Lucius Malfoy," she snarled. "I'm so furious with you right now."

She wanted to stand her ground, but she was hit with sever dizziness. She could either sit down or fall down. Damn, Lucius was already winning. She fell into the chair in front of his desk with a deep sigh.

"Happy?" she spat.

"Not especially." He returned to his seat behind the desk, watching her closely. "Cissa, I hate having you mad at me."

"Did you think I'd be happy about the way you're treating Draco?"

"No, but I'd hoped you'd understand. Cissa, I love you, but I just can't talk about this."

"Well, I suggest you find a way because we're going to talk about it."

Looking away from her icy stare, he said nothing.

"You broke a promise to me, Lucius. How am I supposed to feel about that? You never lied to me before."

His eyes returned to hers, filled with hurt and confusion.

"I've never lied to you, Cissa."

"You promised to be there for Draco - always. You won't even speak to him." Tears threatened to burst from her eyes.

"If you weren't here," he said quietly. "I promised to take care of Draco, if anything happened to you."

"Oh, so if I want you to act like a father to our son, I have to die. That's a brilliant arrangement!"

"Don't talk like that. No matter what, I'm Draco's father."

"Then act like it," she cried, slapping the desk in frustration. "He needs you now. He needs to know that you still love him. This isn't easy for him and you're making it worse."

He said nothing.

"Your son thinks you're ashamed of him. God Lucius, he's just admitted his sexuality. He's chosen a public figure for a partner. This relationship will be news! His mother is dying. His father won't speak to him. After everything he's already been through; how much do you expect him to take? Please, don't do this to him."

Lucius pursed his lips, but still didn't reply.

"Say something!"

"I don't know what to say, Cissa. Draco isn't the only one reeling right now."

"Then talk to him. He loves you. Tell him what you're feeling. All he wants is his father back."

"I can't talk to him, Cissa. Not right now."

She got to her feet so quickly the chair fell backwards.

"This isn't about you, Lucius," she screamed. "You're the adult. You're the parent. Act like it."

"Cissa, you shouldn't get upset like this. It can't be good for you."

"Then you shouldn't make me this upset," she cried before stomping out of the room.

She slammed the bedroom door and fell on the bed in tears.


	44. Dinner with the Weasleys

_We're not gonna be  
Just a part of their game  
We're not gonna be  
Just the victims  
They're taking our dreams  
And they tear them apart  
'til everyone's the same  
I've got no place to go  
I've got nowhere to run  
They love to watch me fall  
They think they know it all_

_Me Against the World ~ Simple Plan_

"Stop playing with your hair," George scolded, taking Hermione's hand so she could no longer run it through her long, curly locks. "You look beautiful. You always look beautiful."

"I'm just so nervous," she admitted, using her free hand to adjust her skirt for the thousandth time.

They were standing outside George's store, preparing to Apparate to the Burrow, but Hermione kept finding reasons to prolong their departure. She'd even suggested going to Harry's to have him approve her outfit, but George vetoed that right away.

"Don't be nervous." He kissed her cheek quickly. "We're not trying to get approval from the Ministry or anything. We're having dinner with my family and telling them about us. People do this all the time, Hermione."

She thought of Lucius and Draco and her stomach sank. But she was just being silly. The Weasleys were nothing like Lucius Malfoy. The two families spent their entire lives trying to prove how little they had in common.

George was right. She and the Weasleys already knew and loved one another. This was fine. They'd be happy for her and George.

Again, her thoughts wandered to the Malfoys. She wondered if Draco got Lucius to talk to him. She wondered how Narcissa was feeling, how the hostility between her husband and son was affecting her. She wondered how the hell she got so invested in the Malfoys' lives. Shouldn't these be Harry's problems to worry about?

"Hermione?" George interrupted her thoughts, looking at her with concern.

What was wrong with her? This night was about them. She shouldn't be thinking about Harry or the Malfoys or anyone else. But she always had preferred to focus on problems that weren't her own, especially when she was nervous.

"I'm fine," she said, forcing a smile and taking his hand. "Let's go."

They Apparated together, reappearing outside the familiar door of the Burrow. Fresh country air invaded her senses and Hermione knew she was home. Merlin, she never realized how much she'd missed this place. Her nerves began to calm and she offered George a genuine smile as they stepped into the warm house.

Hermione wasn't fully through the door before she was engulfed in a tight hug.

"Hermione, dear," Mrs. Weasley cried. "It's been too long. Don't you dare stay away so long next time."

"I won't," Hermione promised.

When Molly stepped back her eyes were moist. Hermione was sure her almost-mother-in-law hadn't missed her that much. She was thinking about Ron. Hermione's worries resurfaced in a second.

"Give the girl some air, Molly," Arthur said, stepping out of the kitchen with a wide smile. "Welcome back, Hermione."

"Thank you, Mr. Weasley."

"Did I turn invisible or something?" George asked with mock irritation.

"Unfortunately, no," Ginny said, entering the room and hugging Hermione.

"Are we gonna eat or what?" Dean cried from the kitchen. "I'm starving."

"Come say hi to Hermione," Ginny called back, rolling her eyes.

"Hi, Hermione. Can we eat, now?"

"Sorry, Hermione." Ginny shook her head. "Sometimes he reminds me so much of Ron." She disappeared into the kitchen to chastise her boyfriend, not knowing the mention of Ron was the equivalent of a slap in the face to Hermione.

"You look pale, dear," Molly said, taking her hand. "Have you been eating enough?"

"She's pale because everyone is suffocating her," George said, coming to the rescue. "Let's just go eat. She's not a museum exhibit."

Percy chose that moment to walk in the door. He hugged both of his parents and greeted Hermione warmly. She appreciated his calm nature as panic tore her insides apart.

"I hear Percy," Dean called. "The gang's all here. Let's dig in."

Everyone laughed. Everyone except Hermione, who was feeling sick to her stomach.

They made their way into the kitchen and settled themselves around the large table. Hermione found herself seated between George and Percy. Beneath the table, George took her hand, but she pulled away. She was feeling awkward enough without the addition of secret hand holding.

Molly served what was likely a delicious meal, but Hermione couldn't be sure. What little she managed to eat was flavorless due to her nerves.

Conversations flew as they always did at the Weasleys' table. Once the novelty of her presence wore off, she was able to remain mute through most of the chatter, lost in her own worries.

Once Molly cleared the table with a flick of her wand, George reached for Hermione's hand again. This time she didn't pull away because she knew what was coming.

"Hermione and I have something we'd like to tell you."

All eyes were on them, filled with curiosity, clueless about what George was going to announce. No one spoke. Now that his stomach was full, even Dean couldn't be counted on to interrupt.

"We're a couple," George said simply.

No one replied.

Glancing at the familiar faces, Hermione tried to gage everyone's wordless response. Beside her, Percy was smiling and seemed pleased enough with the idea. Arthur stared at her and George, giving no indication about his feelings towards this revelation. Dean had a similar expression. Ginny appeared to be biting back laughter, which Hermione took as a good sign. When she turned to Molly though, she knew they were in trouble. Her face was nearly as red as her hair.

"This isn't a funny joke," she said to George.

"It's not a joke, at all," he replied. "I care about Hermione. I think I could love her."

"And what about your brother?"

"Ron's gone, Mum. Hermione deserves a chance to be happy with someone else."

"Yes, she does," Molly agreed, "but not with his brother. This is disrespectful to his memory."

"Molly," Arthur said, but no one paid him any heed.

"We want to be together," George insisted. "I thought you'd understand."

"Well, I don't understand," she yelled. "This is wrong. It's sick and I forbid it."

Her anger flared and Hermione responded before George could. The words just exploded from her mouth before she had a chance to edit them.

"You can't judge us like this," she cried. "I loved Ron. I loved him for years. He was my first love. George loved him, too. But he's gone. We're allowed to move on."

She took a breath, but the look of fury on her face stopped anyone from interrupting.

"It's not like we planned this to hurt you. No one plans who they're going to fall for. Look at Harry and Draco. Do you think they chose to be together because everyone will approve?"

She gasped as her words caught up with her mind. Hell, she hadn't meant to say that. That was Harry's information to share when he was ready.

Everyone gaped at her in shock. Even George was at a loss. She'd been discreet enough not to tell him about Harry's relationship, at least, up until that moment.

She ran from the Burrow without looking back.


	45. Didn't You Love Me?

_And in another year  
The pain will disappear and I  
Will look back on this life as if it were a scene  
In a film somebody made for you and me  
I wish you well_

_Oh I wish you well_  
_Na na na na na na na_  
_I wish you well_

_I Wish You Well ~ Tom Cochrane_

Hermione consumed Harry's thoughts as he paced around the small flat waiting for Draco to arrive. He hoped the Weasleys took her news well, but Ginny wasn't the only one in that family capable of irrational anger. He remembered his ex-girlfriend's baseless accusations and hoped Hermione wasn't receiving similar treatment.

A pounding at the door caused Harry to stop mid-stride. Draco. A smile spread across his face as he thought of tackling his boyfriend. He stopped short just before throwing the door open. Something wasn't right. Draco didn't knock.

The pounding continued and Harry took a deep breath, forcing away thoughts of Draco. Whoever was at the door didn't need to be greeted by an errection that wasn't meant for them.

Cautiously, he opened the door to a tear-stained face, framed by red hair. Before he could react to the unexpected appearance of the witch, she pushed past him, entering his home, uninvited.

"Ginny, what's wrong?" he managed to ask.

She started pacing around his kitchen with her arms crossed. When she finally spoke, fresh tears were streaming down her face and she ignored his question.

"Is it true?" she cried. "Tell me it's not true. Tell me Hermione was lying."

Harry had no idea what was going on. He'd seen Ginny overreact in the past, but this was a whole new level or irrational.

"Hermione?" he asked. "You're screaming at me because Hermione's dating George?"

"I'm happy for Hermione and George," she snapped. "I want to know if Hermione was lying about you. Are you shagging Malfoy, Harry? Are you?" Her voice was high pitched, painful to listen to.

He felt like he'd been run down by the Knight Bus. All the Weasleys knew about him and Draco. Hermione blurted it out over dinner, like it was her news to share. He made a mental note to murder her at his nearest convenience.

"Answer me!"

Ginny stared at him with wide eyes. Never before had she looked so terrifying. Her fury made him consider lying, but he couldn't do it. It wouldn't be fair to any of them.

"Yes," he said, meeting her eyes. "I'm in a relationship with Draco Malfoy."

"Oh, Merlin," she screamed, throwing her hands in the air and pacing again. "I guessed the wrong Malfoy. It wasn't Narcissa you fancied, after all. It was her son. Well, now I know why you defended that lot. You wanted to be his savior so you could get him in bed. That's insane! The Malfoys are dangerous and you let them loose for sex."

"That's not true."

"What about me?" Ginny went on as if he'd never spoken. "Where do I fit into this little fantasy of yours? Did I ever mean anything to you? Were you gay the whole time we were together - dreaming about bloody Draco Malfoy?"

She was quickly becoming hysterical. Her words ran together and her voice was strained. As she continued to pace, she seemed to lose her balance every few steps. Even from a distance, he could tell she was shaking. She was no longer holding back sobs and the sound caused Harry to cringe.

He knew he should be furious. She'd just accused him of a dozen things that weren't true and insulted Draco. Yet in her current state, he couldn't bring himself to feel anything but pity. After all, he'd loved her once.

_Damn it, Hermione,_ he thought. This would've gone so much better if he'd told Ginny himself.

Taking a deep breath, he gently tugged Ginny's arm. He could feel her trembling beneath the thin material of her jumper. Thankfully, she didn't recoil from his touch. She allowed him to lead her to the sofa and sit down beside her.

"Breathe, Ginny," he said. "Just breathe. You've got to calm down."

She obeyed his directions. Soon she stopped shaking and no tears fell down her cheeks, but it was clear she was still mad.

"Are you going to answer me?" she asked. Her voice sounded normal again and Harry was relieved.

"Yes, as soon as you're calm enough to listen to me."

"I'm fine."

Harry studied her for a few minutes before determining that she was right.

"First of all, I didn't defend the Malfoys because I fancied Draco or Narcissa or Lucius." With Ginny's imagination, he figured he better add that last name, too. "Honestly, I didn't much like any of them at the time. But they made choices to oppose Voldemort. I felt they deserved a second chance and that's what I said in court. I've told you this before, Gin. My answer isn't going to change; I'm telling you the truth. Maybe someday you'll believe me."

"I'll never agree with you."

"You don't have to."

"What about us?" she asked, looking away from him.

"I'll always love you," he said, pulling her into a tight embrace. Despite their rows, it felt good to hold her again, in a strictly friendly manner.

"But you're with Dean, now," he added when they broke apart, "and I'm with Draco. I'm happy with him. We didn't work, but that doesn't mean our time together wasn't special."

He smiled. "For what it's worth, I had no idea I was gay when we were together. I figured that out with Draco very recently."

"I'm sorry, Harry." Ginny shook her head. "I didn't mean to come here and act like a lunatic. I'm committed to Dean. We're happy. It just caught me off guard. I had no idea you were gay - and Draco Malfoy of all people. You'll have to tell me how that happened some day. Anyway Hermione just blurted it out and I was so surprised. I overreacted. I'm really sorry."

"You're forgiven," he replied. "But why was Hermione announcing my love life over dinner? You know, I have to kill her now."

"Mum went crazy on her and George. She said they're disrespecting Ron and even forbid them from seeing each other. I guess Hermione just kind of lost it. I don't think she even knew what she was saying until the words were out. Dinner was interesting. That's for sure."

"Poor, Hermione," Harry said, his anger already fading. "She was so worried your family would react like this. Was it just your mum?"

"I think so." Ginny shrugged. "With Mum and Hermione screaming, no one dared to open their mouths, but everyone else seemed okay with it. Mum has a tendency to overreact. Guess I inherited that from her."

"You think your mum will come around? This new relationship means a lot to Hermione, especially since it's her first since Ron."

"Dad'll talk her down," Ginny said with a smile. "He always does. It'll be fine. Anyway I should get going. I have to apologize to Dean for running off. Thanks for putting up with me, Harry."

"Anytime."

With Ginny gone, Harry looked at the time. It was getting late. Where was Draco? As much as he wanted Draco there, he couldn't help being glad that his boyfriend didn't walk in during Ginny's tirade.


	46. Losing Everything

_Blurring and stirring - the truth and the lies.  
(So I don't know what's real) So I don't know what's real and what's not (and what's not)  
Always confusing the thoughts in my head  
So I can't trust myself anymore_

_I'm dying again_

_I'm going under (going under)_  
_Drowning in you (drowning in you)_  
_I'm falling forever (falling forever)_  
_I've got to break through_

_Going Under ~ Evanescence_

"I'm heading over to Harry's now," Draco told his mother. If felt good to say the words, to admit where he was going. It felt even better knowing his beloved mother accepted his choice.

She glanced up from the book she was reading with a smile. "Have a good night, sweetheart. I'll see you in the morning."

He prepared to Disapparate, but his eyes traveled up the stairs and he changed his mind. His father was sulking in his study. He hardly left, only to care for Narcissa. Sighing, Draco ascended the stairs. Before leaving, he'd try again to take to him.

The study door was opened, but Draco knew it wasn't an invitation for him. Lucius was listening for any sign that his wife might need him. If nothing else, he was a loyal husband. Draco was certain the only reason he was allowed to stay at the manor was for his mother's benefit. If it had been up to his father alone, he'd have been banished before he finished saying Harry Potter.

Draco stepped into the room to find his father studying an ancient spell book. Hopefully, he wasn't searching for an untraceable way to murder Harry, not that he'd ever been very successful at killing Harry before.

"Father."

Lucius didn't look up, but his body stiffened as if he were being approached by a boa constrictor.

Sighing, Draco knew it was useless. His father wasn't going to talk to him that night; he might never speak to him again.

"I'm leaving now, Father," he said anyway. "I'm going to Harry's. I'll see you in the morning. I love you."

There was no response so Draco left the room.

Alone in the hall, Draco batted at his eyes in frustration. Why was he crying? This was hardly new. He didn't have to act like such a sap about it. Maybe Harry was rubbing off on him. He smiled at the thought.

Thinking about Harry made Draco want nothing more than to be in his lover's arms. Forcing his father from his thoughts, he Disapparated to Harry's flat.

He reappeared in the bedroom and was disappointed to find it empty. Sometimes when Harry was particularly anxious to see him, he'd wait in the bedroom. Oh well. Draco doubted it would take much persuasion to get his boyfriend to the bed. With a wicked grin, he hurried from the room to begin his coaxing.

When he stepped into the sitting room, he stopped short, staring in disbelief. His Harry wasn't alone. He was seated on the sofa, staring into the eyes of a red-haired witch. Neither of them heard him enter. He stared dumbstruck as his lover uttered the words that caused his world to come crashing down around him.

"I'll always love you."

The words came from Harry's lips, but they weren't for Draco. They'd never said those words to each other, but Harry could say them to another. His Harry was still in love with Ginny Weasley and claimed that he always would be.

He watched in horror as Harry pulled her into his arms. Arms that were meant to be wrapped around Draco. His stomach lurched and his head began to spin. He had to get out of there before things progressed. He couldn't bear to see anymore.

Backing into the bedroom, he remained silent. He was in no condition to confront them. Maybe he never would be.

But where was he supposed to go? Harry was his refuge. He couldn't go home; his father would love this.

Looking at the bed, tears spilled from his eyes. He'd lived out his fantasies on that mattress, but his body would never touch it again. Harry would never touch him again. Harry didn't want him anymore.

The only thing Draco knew was he couldn't stay there. He Disapparated to the first place he could think of with a loud pop. He was certain Harry and Ginny wouldn't hear his exit. They were probably already shagging on the sofa.

Draco reappeared in the middle of Hogsmede. Looking down, he saw that he was still in one piece, but he was trembling terribly. It was a small miracle he'd been able to Apparate without incident, but at that moment, he didn't care.

Witches and wizards walked past him, many of them looking at him with disgust. He'd always be Draco Malfoy, the boy who caused Albus Dumbledore's death, the son of a Death Eater, rubbish. His distress was obvious, but no one offered to help him. No one cared what happened to him, not even Harry.

He took a step forward and stumbled. With more caution, he made his way to the Hog's Head. Harry didn't want him anymore, but his old mistress alcohol would always take him back.

He found a seat at the end of the bar, out of the way so as not to offend the other patrons with his presence. He glanced around the dirty pub, wondering if he'd be served at all.

The bartender approached him. He was an older man with a pot belly and a nasty sneer. Even the Malfoy smirk couldn't compete with that expression.

"A Malfoy," the man muttered, looking him and down as if he were a rare find. "Thought you lot were run out of town. What do you want?"

"Firewhisky," he replied, not meeting the man's eyes.

"You got money?"

"I'm a Malfoy, aren't I?"

The man snorted and slammed a bottle down on the bar before walking away.

Popping the lid, Draco savored the familiar burn of the powerful drink. He knew he'd consume many bottles before the night was through.

As he drank, his thoughts harassed him. The horrible reality of his life haunted him. Harry was gone. His love and his lifeline were gone. Harry was going back to his precious Weasley Princess. His relationship with his father was in shambles, possibly damaged beyond repair. He'd lost his father over Harry. Now they were both lost to him.

The only person who still loved him was his mother, and he could lose her at any time. He was forced to sit and watch as she grew sicker and sicker. She was going to die and leave him alone, all because her sister was a hateful bitch.

Bleak thoughts continued to circle through his head as he went through bottle after bottle of Firewhisky. He lost track of the number of bottles. Eventually, his thoughts became hazy, but the pain associated with them remained sharp.

He was about to motion for another bottle when he realized his wallet was empty. Hell, he'd just spent a small fortune on alcohol. Another reason for his father to be ashamed of him, as if he needed more.

Draco got to his feet, knowing he wouldn't be welcome in this disgusting establishment with an empty wallet. Even with money, he was only tolerated. He was sure many of the snickers throughout the pub were directed at him and his dying mother.

When he first stood, the room spun around him. He closed his eyes, waiting for the sensation to stop. Finally he was able to stumble to the door and step into the night. No one asked if was okay. No one offered to help him. No one cared.

The night air was unusually hot so he rolled up the sleeves of his jumper as he walked. The streets were now deserted and there was no one to stare at him with disdain.

He walked with no idea where he was going. The moon shone brightly in the sky and he allowed it to guide him. Watching the sky, he forgot to watch his feet and stumbled.

As he regained his balance, he looked down and his eyes landed on the loathing skull, forever imprinted on the flesh of his arm. He was hit with revulsion, followed by nausea. Losing complete control, he fell to the ground sobbing.

He hated that mark, was sickened by it. It was a sign of his ignorance, thinking he could achieve glory as a slave to an evil master. His mother cried the first time she saw it. He'd taken the mark to restore pride for his father, but Lucius looked at it with horror on the arm of his only son. Harry never acknowledged it, acted like it didn't matter, like it wasn't even there, but Draco knew that wasn't true. The Mark and his past would always be between them. That's why he'd chosen Ginny in the end.

Staring at the Mark in disgust, he knew what he had to do. His liquor-addled brain made an instant decision. He had to get rid of the Mark. It was the start of all his problems. If it was gone, everything would get better. Harry would want him again. His father would love him again. Somehow, his mother would be spared.

Confident he was doing the right thing, he summoned a knife. The blade looked similar to the one his Aunt Bellatrix treasured - the one she'd used to torture Hermione. The memory caused him to shiver, but he pushed it away. He couldn't be distracted.

He pressed the blade into the offending flesh and was assaulted by pain. He'd never felt anything like it. It took all his strength not to scream, not that anyone would've come to his rescue anyway. He was fighting dark magic and it was fighting back.

Biting his lip to keep silent, he could taste blood. It didn't matter. Despite the pain, he continued to cut. Blood surged from the wound, soaking his clothing and the ground. He didn't care. He continued to cut. The Mark had to go.

When the pain finally became too much the world faded to black and Draco realized he was dying.


	47. Interruptions

_How did you know to get out of a world gone mad  
Help me let go  
Of the chaos around me  
The devil that hounds me  
I need you to tell me_

_Child be still_

_If the darkest hour comes_  
_Before the light_  
_Where is the light_  
_Where is the light_

_Ave Mary A ~ Pink_

"So Harry's shagging Malfoy," George said with a grin as he sat on the sofa in his flat above the store. "I have to admit, I never would've saw that coming. How come you didn't tell me?"

Hermione was pacing around the room, trying to hold back tears. She stopped and gaped at him, her eyes bulging in disbelief.

"Your mother has forbidden us to be together," she cried, throwing her hands in the air. "I betrayed Harry tonight by announcing his relationship. And you want to talk about Harry and Draco?" She glared at him, crossing her arms.

"Yes," he replied with a wide smile. "How long have they been together? Do Malfoy's parents know? When did you start calling him Draco?"

"George, enough! I've already said more about Harry and Draco than I had any right to. Besides we have something more important to talk about. I think we have to end our relationship."

The grin faded from his face and he wore an expression of hurt and confusion. He reminded Hermione of Crookshanks when the cat lost his toys.

"Why?" he finally asked.

"Weren't you listening to your mum tonight?" she demanded, resuming her pacing. "She's furious. I don't want to hurt her. She thinks we're disrespecting Ron's memory."

"But, we're not and you know that. We're not doing anything wrong. I'm not giving you up just because Mum had a hissy fit. If I listened to her every time she yelled at me, I'd be just like Percy. Can you imagine?"

"Stop joking around. This is serious."

"Who's joking?"

"George," Hermione sighed as she sat beside him, "I don't want to hurt your family. They're like my family, too. I knew this could happen. I should've just stayed away from you."

"You're not hurting anyone," George said. No humor lingered in his voice. He was serious and he sounded kind of angry. "But you'd be hurting me, if you stayed away."

"What about your mum?"

"What about her?" George asked with a shrug. "She's overreacting. It's far from the first time. She was, at least, that mad when Fred and I left Hogwarts to open the store. That worked out fine. It always does. Dad'll talk to her. He has a calming effect on her."

"We're still upsetting her."

"You said this yourself, Hermione: Look at Harry and Draco. Don't you think Malfoy's parents are going to be upset? That's not stopping them. Parents don't always approve, but we can't let them run our lives."

"Actually, Narcissa took the news quite well," Hermione replied. Suddenly she was confused and desperate to talk about anything else. She didn't want to leave George, but was it wrong to stay?

"Really?" George asked. His mischievous grin returned. It was obvious he also wanted a more light-hearted conversation.

Hermione shrugged. "She loves her son. She wants him to be happy."

"So does my mum," he said. "She'll come around, you'll see."

Hermione didn't reply. She didn't know what to say. Maybe they could wait Molly out, but was it fair to the witch who'd been a second mother to her?

"What about Daddy Malfoy?" George asked as if sensing she was too lost to talk about their relationship any further.

"Daddy Malfoy?" she snorted. "If he ever heard you say that, he'd curse you into oblivion."

"Probably," George agreed. "Dad'd be proud of me for hacking him off, though."

"What is it with those two anyway?" Hermione asked. "I've never seen them talk for more than a couple of minutes, but they always end up in a fist fight. Seems like more than opposing views to me."

"No idea," George admitted. "Dad only ever talks about Lucius to insult him. I used to think they were a lot like Harry and Malfoy, but I guess that theory's been proven false. Unless Dad and Lucius have some whomping secrets."

"Ahh," Hermione cried, but she had to laugh. The idea was even more ridiculous than Ginny's theory about Harry and Narcissa. Was it a Weasley trait to concoct ludicrous pairings? Ron never did that.

"So you gonna tell me what Lucius had to say about his son's boyfriend?"

"He was an arse. He's not even speaking to Draco. And I think he'd be a lot worse if Narcissa wasn't ill. He loves Draco though so hopefully…"

She was interrupted by a tapping on the window pane. Glancing over, she saw a tan colored owl attacking the window. She recognized it as a hospital owl. As George went to retrieve the message, she was plagued by fear. What if something happened to Molly? What if their announcement upset her so badly she became ill?

The owl relaxed her when it evaded George and came straight for her. If something happened to Molly, they'd be contacting George, not her. This was probably just some nuisance message from Toadface.

"It's from work," she told George as she took the parchment and watched the bird land on the table beside her.

As soon as she unravelled the parchment, she knew it wasn't from Toadface. She recognized the neat script of her friend and roommate.

_Hermione,_

_Sorry to bother you. I know you've got a date and are probably starting a snogging session right about now, but I really feel you should be informed._

_Draco Malfoy was left of the steps of the hospital. Hermione, he's not in very good shape. I know you've been spending time with him while treating his mother. I think you should come in. He'll need someone he's comfortable with when he wakes up._

_Hermione, I hate to ask this, but could you owl his parents? You know the family. It might be easier coming from you. _

_Please Hurry_

_Susan_

"Hermione, what is it?" George asked, taking her hand. "You're so pale."

She felt funny, light-headed. If she hadn't been sitting, she would've fallen. Draco. How bad was it? How would this affect Narcissa? What about Harry?

"Hermione."

"I-it's Draco," she stammered. "He's at the hospital. I think it's serious. Susan wants me to owl his parents and then go in."

"Okay." George squeezed her hand. "I'm going with you."

"Thanks."

Normally, she'd argue, but she felt numb. George's hand seemed to be the only thing keeping her attached to reality.

"Umm…I need parchment, a quill and another owl. I have to tell Harry, too. I've seen them together. Draco would want him there. Harry would want to be there."

George opened a desk drawer across the room, handing her the parchment and quill.

"I'll run downstairs and get one of our delivery owls," he said, hurrying from the room.

Not knowing what to say, especially with the limited information available, Hermione quickly scribbled two notes. She could only hope she didn't terrify Harry or the Malfoys before they even got to the hospital.


	48. Bad News

_On a steel town boulevard  
Life's a promise that doesn't last  
Resurrections of the past  
Children come and are gone so fast  
So gimme faith in love  
Baby tonight  
Gimme arms to hold you here so tight  
There are no secrets  
No angels at my door_

_Fall From Grace ~ Amanda Marshall_

Strong hands shook her gently and Narcissa groaned as she opened her eyes. The world was slightly blurry, but her husband's terrified eyes were clear.

As wakefulness took over and reality settled around her, she realized that something was really wrong. Lucius hadn't woken her since she became ill, not for any reason. Why did he look so pale and terrified?

Her anger towards him was still strong, but it was overpowered by her concern for him. She reached out and took his hand, noticing his other hand was clutching a piece of parchment.

"Lucy, what's wrong?"

"I'm so sorry, Cissa." His voice cracked and tears filled his eyes.

"Lucius, what is it?" She stroked his face with her free hand. "Please, you're scaring me."

"It's my fault."

"What's your fault, love? You can tell me."

"D-Draco." The tears spilled down his cheeks.

Her body tensed and she pulled away from him. Not Draco. Not her Draco. What had Lucius done? She began to tremble and tears came to her eyes.

"What's wrong with my son?" Panic was obvious in her voice. Something happened to her baby. "If you hurt him, Lucius, I swear…" She didn't finish the sentence as she couldn't think of a threat horrible enough.

Lucius looked like she'd slapped him. He was lucky she hadn't.

"I'd never hurt Draco. You must know that, Cissa." He moved so he was sitting beside her instead of leaning over her. Most likely, he just wanted to escape her accusatory eyes.

"You've been hurting him for days," she snapped. "Tell me what's happened to my son."

"He's in the hospital."

"Why?"

"I don't know."

"What do you mean you don't know?" Narcissa cried. "He's our son."

"H-Hermione sent this."

He offered her the rumpled parchment and she ripped it from his hand.

_Lucius and Narcissa,_

_I apologize for the crypticness of this message, but I only have very limited details._

_I received an owl from St. Mungos saying Draco's been admitted. I don't know any details. I'm sorry. I wish I could tell you something. Narcissa, please, try to stay calm. My friend is with him and she'll make sure he's well cared for._

_I'm going to the hospital now. I'll meet you there and hopefully I'll have more to tell you then._

_Hermione_

"I don't understand," she said shaking her head. "He was supposed to be at Harry's. How could this happen?"

"I don't know, Cissa." He took her hand, but she pulled it away. "He told me he was going to Potter's, too."

"And what did you say to him?" she demanded. "Did you tell him he was a disgrace? Did you speak to him, at all?"

"I didn't say a word," Lucius replied, lowering his head.

She jumped out of bed to dress and a dizzy spell hit her. The room went out focus and she fell. Muscled arms caught her and helped her to stand. She stepped away from Lucius as soon as she was physically able.

She looked him in the eye and said, "If anything has happened to _my_ son because of the way you've treated him, I'll go to the grave without forgiving you."

He glanced down.

"I know."

* * *

Harry was forced to conclude Draco wasn't coming. Not knowing what else to do, he climbed into bed alone, but sleep was the last thing on his mind.

His bed felt too big for just him. He kept reaching for his blonde lover, but his fingers touched only rumpled sheets.

The last time Draco failed to show-up, Narcissa was ill. What if that was happening again? What if Narcissa was dying and he wasn't there for Draco? What if Lucius finally blew-up about this relationship and hurt him? Endless horrifying scenarios danced through his head.

The heat of panic consumed him and he threw his blankets to the floor. Cold sweat covered his body.

"Fuck," he swore, clenching his fists and staring into the darkness.

More than anything, he wanted to Apparate to Malfoy Manor and find out where his Draco was. Yet he didn't dare. Lucius made his feelings about their relationship very clear. Harry couldn't chance making things worse by showing up at the manor uninvited and unwanted. As much as he hated it, he'd have to wait for Draco to come to him.

He'd resigned himself to a sleepless night when he heard a familiar pecking at the bedroom window. An owl. A smile spread across his face as he rushed to the window. Draco must've sent him an owl. At least, he'd know why his lover had deserted him.

When he opened the window, he was surprised by the presence of a large barn owl. The bird lacked grace and plopped down on Harry's bed. Clearly this wasn't a Malfoy owl.

"Lumos," he muttered, grabbing his wand.

He accepted the parchment and watched as the bird fled from his flat.

When he unrolled the note, he recognized Hermione's precise script. As he read the words, his stomach dropped.

_Harry,_

_Susan just owled to tell me something's happened to Draco. He's at the hospital, but she gave very few details. I'm so sorry, Harry._

_I'm heading there now, as are the Malfoys. I know you're mad at Lucius, but please don't start something with him. Toadface would love a valid reason to throw both of you out of the hospital and Draco needs you._

_I'll see you soon. Try not to worry. It might not be that bad._

_Love_

_Hermione_

Harry's body tensed and he allowed the tears to flow. Something was wrong with his Draco.

He dressed quickly and Apparated to St. Mungos.


	49. A Long Night

_I can't find the rhyme in all my reason  
Lost sense of time and all seasons  
Feel I've been beaten down  
By the words of men who have no grounds  
Can't sleep beneath the trees of wisdom  
When your ax has cut the roots that feed them  
Forked tongues in bitter mouths  
Can drive a man to bleed from inside out_

_What If ~ Creed_

Hermione arrived at the hospital, clutching George's hand. She didn't want to let go. She may be a Healer, but her ability to distance herself from patients was non-existent. It'd be worse with Draco. He was her friend, or at least, he was becoming her friend.

"You'll be brilliant," George whispered as if sensing her fear.

Before she could reply, Toadface came barreling down the hall with a scowl on her face. Her eyes landed on them and Hermione knew they couldn't avoid the unpleasant woman. George squeezed her hand to offer silent support.

"Ah, Miss. Granger," she said with a cruel smile. "I might've known you'd show up. A Death Eater is injured and you come running."

"Miss. Bones asked me to consult and deal with the family," Hermione replied, keeping her voice calm and level. "As you're aware, I'm acquainted with the Malfoys."

The cruel woman snorted. "I'm well aware of your unfortunate association with the Malfoys, Miss. Granger. Thanks to you, that Malfoy woman has been a drain on our recourses for months. Now her Death Eater son is following in her footsteps."

"The Malfoys are entitled to medical care like the rest of the magical community," Hermione sighed. She didn't want to spar with this bitch. She wanted to see Draco so she'd have something to tell Harry and his parents when they arrived.

"The only thing they're entitled to is a life sentence in Azkaban."

"The courts disagreed with you. Now, if you'll excuse me."

"Just a moment," Toadface snarled before Hermione could rush down the hall. "We need to discuss your serious lack of professionalism. What are you wearing? And really, bringing your boyfriend to work?"

Anger flared and bitter words were on the tip of her tongue, but George stopped her from speaking.

"Actually, Madame Umbridge, I'm here to see you," George said sweetly, dropping Hermione's hand. "I'd like to apologize for my blatant disrespect the other day. Please, walk with me."

He took her arm and led her down the hall. So shocked, Toadface followed without comment. Equally shocked, Hermione watched them go. Just before they disappeared from sight, George turned and winked at her.

A part of her wanted to chase after them. There was no doubt George was up to something. But she really had more pressing concerns than George's unique brand of humor.

She was about to begin her search for Draco when Susan came rushing towards her. Hermione was surprised to see her friend looking disheveled and stressed.

"Hermione," she cried, "I was starting to think you weren't coming. I know Draco Malfoy isn't your favorite person, but you've been so involved with his mother's care; I thought you'd want to be here."

"I do," she insisted. "I just got held up by out charming boss."

Susan rolled her eyes. "She's been making the rounds tonight."

"Did she cause Draco trouble?"

"Well, Draco hasn't been conscious since he got here, but Toadface wanted to leave him lying on the steps to bleed to death."

"Bitch."

Hermione felt a sudden need to protect Draco. She didn't see him as the little boy who bullied her anymore or even as the terrified young man who nearly killed Albus Dumbledore. He was Narcissa's son, Harry's lover, and maybe even her friend.

"What happened to him?" she finally asked.

"Looks like he attempted to cut the Dark Mark from his arm and passed out, either from pain or blood lose," Susan told her.

"What?" Hermione stared. "Why would he do that? He had to know it was dangerous. You can't just mess with dark magic. Why risk it? He's been happy. At least, as happy as he can be under the circumstances. And Narcissa. He'd never want to upset her."

"I didn't know you'd gotten so close to him," Susan replied with a raised eyebrow. "Anyway, I don't know his motivations. It appears that he was drunk though."

"Brilliant," Hermione sighed. "He's going to be okay though, right?"

Susan hesitated, looking towards the floor.

"Susan."

"I don't know, Hermione. He won't wake up. He's lost a lot of blood and we can't heal the wound. He's still bleeding heavily. There's some magic in the Mark that we can't control."

"Are you saying he could die?"

Harry.

Narcissa.

"Bulstrode's with him now." Susan took her hand and led her down the hall. In a daze, Hermione followed. "She's a strong Healer, Hermione. There's no reason to think she can't get this under control. I'll take you to him."

They wandered through the bleak, colorless halls. Everything blurred together. Hermione could only think of Harry, Narcissa, and even Lucius. If they couldn't save Draco, how could she tell them? How could they get through it?

Susan pulled her into a room where she saw Draco stretched out on a cot. His eyes were closed and his complexion was even paler than usual. The only color came from the bloodstained sheet covering his body. Bulstrode leaned over him, bandaging his injured arm.

"Granger," she said, glancing up. "It's about bloody time. I thought I'd have to deal with this kid's lunatic family."

"Is he okay?" Hermione asked, keeping a safe distance from the bed.

"Well, I can't fix the fact that this kid is obviously an idiot," she said as she finished with the bandage, "but health-wise, he'll be fine. I stopped the bleeding with a rare ointment, but the wound will have to heal naturally. When he wakes, he'll need Blood Replenishing Potion."

Hermione sighed in relief. Tension left her body that she didn't even know was there.

"How did you know what to do?" Susan asked. "I thought I tried everything."

"I didn't," Bulstrode replied with a shrug. "In all my years as a Healer, I've never seen someone attempt something so foolish. This boy is alive because of dumb luck, Miss. Bones."

Hermione smiled, remembering the words of McGonagall all those years ago. Dumb luck had been saving her and her friends since their first year at Hogwarts.

"Miss. Granger, shall I assume you'll be taking over this case?" Bulstrode asked.

"Yes."

"Very well. I'm not sure when he'll wake, but watch him through the night. If all seems well, send him home in the morning."

Hermione nodded.

"And don't let well wishers smother him," she added. "He's likely to be disoriented when he wakes. One family member can sit with him - no more."

Again, she nodded. Harry and the Malfoys would have fun working that out.

The three Healers left the room together and were greeted by Harry and the Malfoys. Bulstrode and Susan walked off, leaving Hermione alone to explain. Susan didn't even take the time to wonder why Harry was there.

Hermione looked at the three terrified faces. All three of them were keeping a safe distance from each other. There was no doubt that it was going to be a long night.


	50. For Draco

_But words can't say, And I can't do  
Enough to prove,  
It's all for you_

_I thought I'd seen it all_  
_'Cause it's been a long, long time_  
_But then we'll trip and fall_  
_Wondering if I'm blind_

_All For You ~ Sister Hazel_

Narcissa was trembling and she had trouble keeping Hermione's face in focus. Lucius reached out to hold her, but she side-stepped him, still furious.

"He's going to be okay," Hermione told them.

Relief flooded Narcissa. When her body relaxed, she lost her balance. Lucius caught her before she hit the floor, but she quickly stepped out of his arms, moving closer to Harry.

"We should sit," Hermione said.

Hermione started towards the waiting room. Before Lucius could attempt to touch Narcissa again, Harry offered her his arm. She readily accepted, allowing him to guide her down the short hall. Lucius stayed close, glaring at her escort, but had the good sense to keep his mouth shut.

Once she was settled between Harry and Lucius, she looked to Hermione. Now that she was seated, her vision returned to normal and she was shocked by the young witch's appearance. She was dressed for a night out, but her hair was slightly askew and her eyes were red as if she'd been crying. Obviously, she'd come running when she heard about Draco, putting her own life on hold. Narcissa was grateful.

"Are you all right, Narcissa?" Hermione asked with genuine concern in her eyes.

"Yes," she replied, forcing a small smile. "Please, what's happened to Draco?"

Hermione bit her lip, looking at each of them. It was obvious that she feared their reaction to whatever she was about to reveal. As much as Narcissa had grown to like the girl, her patience was wearing thin,

"Hermione, please."

"It appears that Draco attempted to cut off his Dark Mark."

Beside her, Lucius tensed and Harry gasped.

"Why?" Harry choked.

"I have no idea," Hermione replied with a helpless shrug. "I haven't spoken to him. He's been unconscious since he arrived. The wound was severe and we were unable to heal it, most likely due to some dark magic in the Mark. We were eventually able to stop the bleeding, but he lost a lot of blood."

"Why weren't you with him?" Narcissa demanded, turning to glare at Harry. Part of her felt guilty, attacking someone Draco cared for, but fear and anger currently controlled her actions. "He was going to you. How could you let this happen to my son? He trusted you."

Harry stared back, wide-eyed and clearly confused. For a moment, she thought he was going to respond with some cruel comment. It wouldn't be the first time, but a lot had changed since then.

"Draco wasn't with me tonight, Mrs. Malfoy," he told her. "He was supposed to be, but he never showed. I assumed he was with you." His eyes were filled with worry and sadness. Guilt reared its head again. She shouldn't have accused him. He was as upset as she was.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I know you wouldn't hurt him." She managed a smile. "He thinks the world of you."

"When can we see him?" she asked, turning back to Hermione.

Once again, the young girl looked nervous.

"Well," she began, "we're not sure just when Draco will wake-up, but it should be soon. We're keeping him overnight to ensure there are no unexpected side-effects." She hesitated, glancing at each of them. "He's likely to be disoriented when he wakes. For that reason, Madame Bulstrode has requested that only one of you sit with him. Not to mention, from what I've seen tonight, I'm not at all certain the three of you could be in the same room together any length of time without a duel breaking out."

Narcissa wasn't sure if the last comment was meant as a joke or not. She had to admit, it was sadly accurate. Emotions were running high and they all had explosive tempers.

"I'll leave you three to work that out," Hermione said, getting to her feet, "but keep in mind Umbridge would love a valid reason to remove any of you from the hospital." With that she left them.

"Who's Umbridge?" Narcissa asked. She was only able to place Dolores Umbridge, who died in Azkaban.

"A bitch," Lucius said.

"Satan," Harry replied at the same time.

Well, they agreed on something. Maybe there was hope that they'd learn to get along, for Draco's sake.

Not wanting to waste any more time on the topic of the unpopular Umbridge, Narcissa looked towards her son's hospital room with longing. More than anything, she wanted to run in there, wrap Draco in her arms and assure herself that he was all right. But she knew this wasn't the time to be selfish.

She had to think about Draco. He was bound to be happier waking in the arms of his lover than in the arms of his mother. Besides she didn't have much time left to comfort and care for him. He'd have to learn to accept that from Harry and hopefully Lucius.

Putting her own desires aside, she did what she believed was best for Draco.

"Go sit with him, Harry."

She waited for Lucius to argue, but he said nothing. She was relieved, but uncertain if his silent agreement was caused by an understanding of their son's needs or a desire to avoid her temper. She hoped for the former.

Harry looked at her with a blank stare and she struggled not to laugh. There was no denying her son had good taste. This boy was adorable.

"I-I'm sorry, Mrs. Malfoy?"

"Please, call me Narcissa," she told him. "You've brought a lot of happiness to my son, Harry. You may not be what I was expecting, but I'm grateful you're in his life, all the same. Now, please, go sit with him. It's you he'll want to see when he wakes."

"B-but you're his mother." He still looked adorably confused. "I know you want to be with him. Please, go ahead. He loves you so much."

So they'd discussed her. The thought made her smile, but she wasn't sure why. Of course, they'd discussed her. She was Draco's mother and she was dying. It was likely they discussed her a lot.

"Yes, I want to be with him," she admitted, "but it's you he needs by his side tonight."

Lucius cleared his throat. "If you two keep bickering, I'm going in there myself, and we all know neither of you want that. I don't think I've ever been glared at so many times in one night before."

Ignoring her husband, Narcissa remained focused on Harry. "Go. Draco needs you."

"Thank you, Narcissa," he said before hurrying into Draco's room.

Lucius reached for her hand and she didn't pull away.


	51. Your Wish Is My Command

_It's my life  
It's now or never  
I ain't gonna live forever  
I just want to live while I'm alive  
(It's my life)  
My heart is like an open highway  
Like Frankie said  
I did it my way  
I just wanna live while I'm alive  
It's my life_

_It's My Life ~ Bon Jovi_

Hermione caught up to Susan down the hall. Her friend offered a guilty smile as they continued to walk together.

"You know, you could've stayed with me back there," Hermione scolded. "You actually treated Draco. I just got a briefing when it was all over."

"I know," Susan sighed, "but you know them. Besides, Lucius scares the hell out of me."

Hermione laughed. "He's less scary when you get used to him. He's more human than I ever expected."

"See, you're used to them. Me not being there was more comfortable for everyone. And hey, what the hell was Harry doing there?"

Sighing, Hermione quickly debated what to say. Did she dare reveal Harry's personal life, without his permission, twice in one night? But what would she say if she didn't? She didn't want to lie. And with Harry visiting Draco in the hospital, more people than Susan would know by morning.

"Erm…his relationship with Draco has sort of changed."

They were near the end of the deserted corridor and Susan stopped walking to focus on Hermione. The sparkle in her eyes told Hermione that she was expecting hot gossip. Well, she could certainly deliver.

"They're together," she said.

"As in shagging?"

"As in shagging, yes."

"How the hell did that happen?" Her eyes bulged, giving her the appearance of a puffer fish. "Last I heard Harry and Draco were straight and they hated each other."

Shrugging, Hermione smiled. "I think it started with mutual loneliness and far too much alcohol, but it's developed into something more. They're happy together. They pull each other up. Not that that explains what happened to Draco tonight."

"Do his parents know?" Susan looked scandalized and Hermione struggled not to laugh.

"Draco told them. Narcissa's been great about it. Lucius hasn't spoken to him since he told him."

"Ouch."

Hermione was about to agree when she saw George walking down the hall towards them. He was wearing a wide grin and Toadface was nowhere to be seen. All thoughts of Harry and Draco's love life left her mind. He was looking way too cocky.

"What did you do?" she demanded.

"Whatever do you mean, Miss. Granger?" He gave her an innocent, puppy dog look, which only made him appear guiltier.

"Am I going to get sacked for this?"

"Sacked?" Susan piped up. "Why would you get sacked?"

"No one's getting sacked," George said, still smiling like the Cheshire Cat.

"Where's Toadface?" Hermione insisted. "Really George, there's enough going on tonight. I don't want to deal with her, too."

George held out his hand. A large toad sat in the center of his palm, staring at Hermione and Susan with something that resembled a scowl.

"She's right here."

"You turned her into a toad," Hermione cried, covering her mouth. "You can't do things like that, George. It's-"

"Bloody brilliant," Susan cut in with a smile. "How'd you do it?"

"Specialty potion," George replied proudly. "Made it myself. I mixed the potion into a cupcake and gave it to her as an apology. She's so thick. She totally bought it."

"That's clever," Susan said, "but I bet she won't be taking food from you again."

"That's the best part. She won't remember. The potion lasts for twenty-four hours and then she'll turn back into her ugly self with no memory of her time as a real toad. I made the potion especially for her."

"Brilliant."

"Susan, stop encouraging him. I won't be surprised if he gets arrested for this."

"I won't get arrested." He shrugged with a smile. "Anyway, I was just trying to help. I know how she treats the Malfoys. I figured with Draco injured, Lucius and Narcissa upset, and Harry in the mix, you'd have enough drama without Toadface adding to it. How is Draco anyway?"

"He'll be okay. He has to stay overnight though."

"What happened to him? He didn't get attacked, did he? The Malfoys aren't especially loved."

The idea of patient confidentiality popped into her mind, but she pushed it away. Secrecy wasn't her strong point that night.

"His wounds were self-inflicted," she said, looking at the floor. "He tired to cut the Dark Mark off."

"What? Why?"

"Everyone keeps asking that like I should have an answer," she snapped. "I don't know why he'd do something so foolish. Obviously, he wasn't thinking about Harry or Narcissa when he did it. He'll have to explain himself when he wakes up."

"Hermione, you're shaking."

He handed the Umbridge toad to Susan and wrapped Hermione in his arms. She was surprised when she realized his words were true. Her body was trembling. She was that mad that Draco would hurt his mother and lover that way. Her body relaxed in George's arms and the shaking stopped.

"We should go somewhere private," George said, stroking her hair. "You've had a long night."

"Take Toadface's office," Susan offered. "She won't need it tonight."

"What about Draco?" Hermione asked, pulling out of George's embrace.

"I'll keep an eye on him until you're ready," Susan said.

"I thought you were afraid of Lucius." Hermione even managed a smirk.

"I'll deal," she said, squeezing Hermione's shoulder and starting down the hall.

Without giving herself time to think about it, Hermione grabbed George and Apparated them to Umbridge's office. Before he had a chance to look around or speak, she shoved him onto the desk, pushing her lips into his.

"Whoa," he said, pushing her away. "We're not going down this road again. I'm not shagging you just because you're upset. You feel guilty in the morning, remember?"

"I'm not upset," she insisted, keeping him pinned to the desk. She tried snogging him again, but he pulled his head back.

"You were pretty upset when you were talking about Draco."

"He hurt Harry."

"And you want to shag me to forget about it?"

"No, I just want to shag you."

"A few hours ago, you wanted to break-up with me."

"I was wrong."

"What changed your mind?"

Hermione sighed, moving to sit on the desk beside him. "What's wrong with you, George Weasley? I'm trying to shag you and you want to talk."

"The last time I let you seduce me without knowing why you had regrets. I care about you, Hermione. I don't want a repeat performance."

"Harry and Lucius changed my mind," she told him, taking his hand. "When Harry came to the hospital tonight, he was terrified. He thought he was going to lose Draco and it was destroying him. Lucius is the same way with Narcissa. He knows he's going to lose her and it's killing him. All he wants it to be close to her and love her, even though she's pretty furious with him, right now."

"Hermione, I don't see what this has to do with us."

Their eyes met and she smiled.

"Harry could've lost Draco tonight. Unless there's some miracle, Lucius will lose Narcissa. Life is short and unpredictable. We already know that better than most. I don't want to waste time. It's my life and I'm not going to spend it trying to please your mother or anyone else. I want you, George."

"You're amazing, Hermione."

"Does that mean you'll stop asking me questions and make love to me on this desk?"

A mischievous grin spread across his face and he moved to pin her against the desk. "Your wish is my command."


	52. Pillow

_In your arms I can still feel the way you  
want me when you hold me  
I can still hear the words you whispered  
when you told me  
I can stay right here forever in your arms_

_Forever and Always ~ Shania Twain_

Narcissa sat beside Lucius with her eyes drooping as she stared at the door Harry disappeared through. She didn't regret letting Harry sit with Draco, but she still wanted to be with her son. Every time she thought of what he did to himself, she shuddered. Her poor little boy. He'd been through so much and there seemed to be no end to it.

Forcing her eyes away from the door, she looked to her husband. Lucius had become stoic, staring off into space, but she could see the pain in his eyes. She knew she was making his pain worse and some of her anger began to dissipate. He'd given-up trying to touch her, as if the few moments she'd allowed him to hold her hand were more than he thought he deserved.

Sighing, she got to her feet and resettled in Lucius' lap with her arms wrapped around his neck and her head rested on his chest. The feel of his body calmed her. His arms wrapped around her and he rested his head on hers. If she closed her eyes she could almost pretend everything was normal and she was home cuddling with her husband.

"I love you, Cissa."

"I love you, too."

"Does this mean I'm forgiven?" he asked, stroking her hair. "Or did you just need a pillow?"

His lame attempt at humor made her smile. Even at the worst of times, even when he couldn't see her face, he wanted her to smile.

"I'm sorry," he added. "I've treated Draco horribly and upset you. It was selfish to indulge in a sulk at a time like this."

"You're tentatively forgiven," she told him, "but only because I need a pillow. You have to make things right with Draco. You're his father; that doesn't change because he's gay. And you can't change him. He's committed to this relationship."

"Clearly, I used to be able to sway him with a well placed glare."

"He's not a child anymore," she reminded him, curling her fingers through his hair. "He has to decide these things for himself."

"Well, it's not like I always gave him the best advice. Looking up to me never did him any favors."

"Don't say that. Draco loves you and he'll always look up to you. That's why it's so important that he knows you accept him."

"I'll talk to him."

"Are you going to tell him you accept his relationship with Harry?"

"Yes."

"Do you?" She tilted her head to look into his eyes. "Draco's not stupid, Lucius, his actions tonight notwithstanding. He'll know if you're lying and he may not be able to forgive you for it."

"I won't by lying, Narcissa. I've done a lot of thinking while sulking and even more tonight. I can accept this and I will, for my son."

She beamed up at him. It felt wrong to smile so broadly while waiting for her son to awaken from serious, self-inflicted injuries, but suddenly she knew it was going to be all right. Lucius was going to make everything all right.

"I'll talk to him after he wakes, once you and Potter are done coddling him, of course." He grinned at her. "You know he deserves a kick in the arse for a stunt like this, right?"

She lowered her head back to his chest and closed her eyes. She didn't want to talk about why. The thought that her Draco could do something like that terrified her.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I didn't mean to upset you. Don't worry, Cissa. Draco's going to be fine. We'll make sure of it and Potter will, too."

"You'll eventually have to stop calling him Potter, you know."

"As long as he doesn't call me Dad, I'll deal with it."

She laughed. "I am so asking him to do that."

"Don't you dare."

Still laughing, she cuddled closer to him. After all the time she wasted ignoring him, it felt good to bask in his touch. She'd missed him. Would he feel this lonely when she was gone forever?

With her eyes closed and her husband silent, Narcissa was surprised how quiet the hospital was. No Healers running about. Either they were in a secluded part of the building or it was a slow night. Even Hermione hadn't been back to check on Draco; although her red-haired friend slipped into the room once.

"How are you feeling?" Lucius finally asked. "A night like this can't be good for you."

She smiled. He'd done so well. He let her worry and lecture, without commenting on her health. She realized he'd been biting his tongue the whole time. He'd probably drawn blood keeping himself from suggesting she stay home.

"I'm tired," she admitted, "but that's most likely because it's the middle of the night. Really, Lucius, I'm fine. We need to focus on Draco tonight."

"We'll focus on Draco when he wakes up. I'll even refrain from kicking his arse. But, in the meantime, why don't you try to get some sleep. You've got an oversized pillow, after all. I'll wake you when he's with us."

"You'll hold me?"

"Nothing makes me happier."

"I love you, Lucy," she mumbled before burying her head in his chest and falling asleep in his embrace.


	53. Scars

_You are my knight in armor  
The hero of my heart  
When you smile at me I see  
A true world go up  
The river is getting deep, believe it  
You're all these arms of mine wanna hold  
All wrapped up with a river  
Baby, I'm giving you this heart of gold_

_So listen up, it's you I trust_  
_I feel magic every time that we touch_  
_I pledge allegiance to the heavens above_  
_Tonight to you baby I make my declaration of love_

_Declaration of Love ~ Celine Dion_

Even before he was fully conscious, Draco felt the pain. His entire arm was on fire. It was even worse than the Dark Lord activating his Mark. It was the worst pain he'd ever felt.

Opening his eyes, he moaned. He wouldn't scream. He could muster that much dignity. He planned to study his surroundings, but couldn't look past the glistening green eyes and tear-stained face looming above him. Just the sight of him caused the pain to ebb slightly.

"H-Harry," he choked, realizing his throat was parched.

"You're an idiot," Harry snapped before kissing him numerous times. When he sat back there were fresh tears on his face.

"What's going on? Where are we? Why are you crying? Are you having one of your girl moments?" After a few seconds hesitation he added, "Can I have some water?"

"Here." Harry reached under Draco's arms and helped him into a sitting position. Draco flinched in pain, but looked away so Harry wouldn't see. Obviously, his actions had already caused Harry enough grief.

Reaching across him, Harry poured him a glass of water from a bedside pitcher and handed it to him. While Draco greedily drank, Harry settled beside him, wrapping his arms around Draco's waist and placing his head on his chest. The contact did more than any pain potion ever could.

"You don't remember what you did?" Harry asked.

Draco looked at his arm, seeing the bandage over his scar.

"I remember cutting the Dark Mark," he admitted, glad Harry wasn't looking at him to see the shame in his eyes. "I don't know what happened after that. Am I at St. Mungos?"

"Of course, you're at St. Mungos," Harry sighed, releasing Draco's waist and rolling over so his head was in Draco's lap. He stared up, meeting Draco's eyes. "You practically hacked your arm off. What the hell were you thinking? You could've died, Draco. Is that what you want? Were you trying to kill yourself?"

Harry was furious. When Draco rested his good arm on Harry's shoulder he felt the trembling. But Harry's voice didn't hold a hint of anger, only fear and sadness.

Holding back his own tears, Draco was plagued by guilt. He never thought his stunt would hurt Harry like this.

"No, I don't want to die, Harry. The thought never even occurred to me. I'm sorry."

"You should be sorry," Harry replied. This time there was anger in his words and Draco feared he'd move, taking away the comfort his touch offered, but Harry remained still as he glared up at him. "Why'd you do it? Why didn't you come to me tonight?"

For the first time since he woke, Draco fully remembered the events leading up to his drunken hack job. Ginny. Harry was back with Ginny. Why did he even bother to come to the hospital? Was this just pity?

Draco knew he should be angry. Harry cheated on him. Harry pitied him. The thought of being pitied by someone he shared so much with made him ill. Still he couldn't feel anger, only regret that he'd soon loose Harry forever.

"I did come to you," he whispered, looking at the white walls so he wouldn't have to face Harry. "I always come to you."

"What are you talking about?" Harry took his hand. "I waited for you. You never… Oh hell. Ginny. Is this about Ginny?"

"I saw you," Draco whispered. "She was in your arms. You told her you'd always love her."

"Leave it to you to walk in that exact second," Harry mumbled. He sat up. Draco cringed when they were no longer touching.

"Look at me," Harry ordered.

"No."

"Draco." His voice was soft and his hand brushed Draco's cheek.

Unable to resist or deny him, Draco looked into beautiful, green eyes. He melted. How could he give this up?

"You're an idiot, Draco Malfoy, but you're my idiot. I love you. I don't want anyone else."

Draco stared. "What did you say?"

Harry smiled. "You heard me."

"Say it again."

"You're an idiot, Draco Malfoy."

"Don't be a prat."

"I love you, Draco, only you."

"I love you, too."

"Good cause this might've been embarrassing otherwise."

Harry pulled Draco back into his arms, this time letting his head rest on Draco's shoulder.

"We still have to talk."

"Can't I just enjoy the fact that you're not leaving me?"

"No. Is that why you cut yourself?"

Draco sighed, "Part of it. I was really drunk. Come to think of it, I should have a monster hangover right now. Guess they gave me something for that. Anyway, I saw the Mark and decided it was alienating me from everyone I love. If it was gone, everything would be better. I was so out of it. I even thought getting rid of it would cure Mother."

"Narcissa's not sick because you took the Dark Mark."

"I know that. I was just such a wreck. She's dying. Father won't look at me. I thought you were leaving me. I wasn't thinking straight. Father never wanted me to have the Mark. Even though you never said anything, I knew you had to despise it. With it gone, I thought you'd both want me back."

"Oh, Draco." Harry held him tighter. "I never want you to think like that again. I never said anything about the Mark because I don't care about it. It's just a scar, like the ugly thing on my forehead. It doesn't define you. And your father has no room to judge. He has the same scar."

"You can't compare your scar to mine, Harry." Draco shook his head. "That Mark is a sign of evil. It tells the whole world that I was a slave to evil. I don't know how you can even look at it without hating me. Your scar is a sign of courage and bravery. Everyone looks at your scar and sees a hero. You have nothing to be ashamed of."

Harry laughed and Draco could feel his head shaking against his shoulder.

"I don't think I said anything funny."

"No. It's just funny how differently we see things. I know you, Draco. You didn't take that mark because you wanted it. Either you took the Mark and the task or Voldemort would've killed you and your parents. Maybe you wanted glory, but I don't believe you'd have gone that far to get it. You wanted to live, but I suspect there was a time you'd have given your life to get out. Your life, but never theirs. When I think of your scar, I think of bravery, loyalty, and love. That's what Lucius should see, too. When I look at my own scar, I think about how I got it. My parents died for me. That's why I have it. Every time I look at it, I'm reminded of them and every other person who died so I could live. But I'm not going to cut it off. It's a part of me. An unpleasant part, but still part."

"You think I'm brave?"

Harry laughed. "Good Lord, Draco. I just gave a huge speech and that's all you managed to gleam from it? Yes, I think you're brave."

"I never knew what a burden your scar was. Kinda makes me regret calling you Scar Head."

"Well, now you know and we can deal with the burden of our scars together. Do you want to know what happened with Ginny tonight or leave it for another time?"

"You bloody well better tell me what that was about."

"Jealous?" Harry teased.

"You can't make fun of me. I'm injured."

"Fine, but don't think I won't tease you later. Anyway, Hermione's dinner with the Weasleys didn't go so well and she decided to tell them about us. Ginny didn't take it well. I was comforting her. That's it. Yes, I told her that I'd always love her and I will, as a friend. If you had stuck around, you'd have heard me tell her I was happy with you. I am. I love you. Feel better?"

"I feel daft."

"Good."

"Can you just hold me, now?"

"I'd love to, but I have to go tell your parents you're awake. They wouldn't let us all in the room. Your mum insisted I sit with you. I have to tell them. It was cruel to leave them out there all this time."

"My parents are here?" Draco exclaimed, jumping forward and causing pain to shoot through his arm.

"Of course, they are. Their only son is in the hospital. Where do you think they'd be?"

"Mother shouldn't be here. She should be home in bed with her illness. At least, Father came with her. Damn it! Why would she risk her health like this?"

Harry kissed him on the forehead as he got to his feet.

"Because she's your mother and she loves you."

"She shouldn't be here," Draco insisted, shaking his head.

"And you shouldn't be hacking your arm up," Harry replied, stopping at the door. "She's strong, Draco. She'll be fine. It's easier for her to be here with you than at home worrying about you."

Draco nodded, wishing he shared Harry's certainty.


	54. Welcome Back, Draco

_For all of my days  
I'll be happy to hold you  
And always go that extra mile  
If I build it with care  
I'll be there like I told you  
I'll always give you reason to smile_

_I'll give you shelter_  
_Out of the rain_  
_I'll make a good day_  
_Out of the pain_  
_If you got a long way down_  
_I'll feel the same_  
_I'll give you shelter_  
_Out of the rain_

_Shelter ~ Hedley_

Narcissa was awake, but still cuddled in Lucius' lap when Hermione arrived with a red-haired boy and sat across from them. The two were holding hands and Hermione's hair was messier than usual. There was no doubt what they'd been doing. Narcissa buried her face in Lucius' chest to hide her grin.

"Harry's with Draco?" Hermione asked.

Masking the remainder of her smile, Narcissa looked to her. "Yes, I thought Draco would want to see him." She studied Hermione. Despite the signs of her encounter with the nameless boy, she seemed perfectly calm. She really did support Harry and Draco.

"I'm sure Harry was grateful," she replied. "Draco means a lot to him. I can't imagine how scared he was or how scared you were."

"It's certainly upsetting," Narcissa agreed. "I know Draco's been having a hard time, but I never thought he'd do something like this."

"Neither did I," Hermione said. "Of course, he's been upset, but he's been happy, too. He and Harry have been good for each other."

Narcissa nodded. "Harry's gotten Draco through a lot. You've been a good friend to my son, too, Hermione. He told me that your acceptance meant a great deal to him, especially considering how you found out."

Hermione's eyes widened. "He told you that?"

"Only that you saw something awkward. He didn't share the details."

Lucius chuckled. She decided it was a good sign that he could find humor in this. Maybe he really was ready to accept their son.

"That's not how I wanted to learn about them," Hermione told her, ignoring Lucius. "I was hurt that Harry didn't trust me enough to tell me. At least, Draco told you because he wanted to."

"I know he struggled with it, but I'm glad he told me."

"I think he was relieved when he told you. He couldn't say enough positive things about your reaction."

She felt Lucius tense, but offered him no comfort. His bad behavior was his own fault.

"Thank you, dear."

Hermione smiled at the endearment and Narcissa realized how comfortable they'd become with each other. A year ago, she'd never have expected to have a friendly conversation with Hermione Granger, especially a conversation about Draco's romantic relationship with Harry Potter.

"How are you feeling?" she asked.

"I'm fine, just tired."

"Do you want to lie down? We can wake you when Draco rejoins us."

"I'm okay," she replied, pulling herself closer to Lucius. "I have my own pillow."

"I see you made-up." She grinned.

"Tentatively," Lucius replied.

"Well, it's progress."

"May I ask where your charming boss is this evening, Miss. Granger?" Lucius asked. Narcissa knew he was ready to change the subject. "I expected to be harassed long before now."

Looking to the redhead, Hermione smiled. "Go ahead and tell them. I know you're just bursting to brag some more."

The boy's grin matched Hermione's.

"George Weasley, right?" Lucius asked, finally supplying Narcissa with the boy's identity. She should've guessed he was a Weasley. "You run the joke shop?"

"That's right, sir," George replied with a nod. "And I assure you, Sylvia Umbridge won't be bothering you tonight. I designed a special potion for her. I've turned her into a toad, actually. She won't be back to her bitchy self until tomorrow night. I thought you could all use a break from her."

Lucius nodded his approval. "This is a treat, indeed. I don't mean to sound ungrateful, but have you considered giving her a more permanent version of the potion?"

"Don't give him ideas," Hermione warned.

Narcissa was wondering how this Umbridge woman made so many enemies when the door to Draco's room opened. Harry stepped out with a wide smile on his face.

"He's awake."

Getting to her feet, Narcissa hurried to Harry and wrapped him in a hug. His body tensed at first, but soon he was hugging her back and whispering that everything was fine.

"He's okay?" she asked, releasing Harry and stepping back to study his face.

"Yeah. He was a bit groggy at first, but he's his old self now."

Narcissa looked to Hermione, silently begging for admittance to her son's room.

"He's entirely lucid?" Hermione asked Harry.

"Yeah, for sure." A strange grin crossed Harry's face, but no one questioned him about it.

"Is he in pain?"

"He says his arm hurts."

"No wonder," Lucius muttered and they all glared at him.

"Okay, I have to get a Blood Replenishing Potion for him. I'll grab one for pain, too. The three of you can go in, if you play nice. Draco doesn't need to be upset right now."

Narcissa didn't bother waiting to see if Harry and Lucius agreed to the terms. Instead, she pushed past Harry, rushing into the room.

One look at her son, and she knew he's been through hell. His skin was whiter than she'd ever seen it and his eyes were partially closed. Still, he managed a smile for her.

She climbed on the bed beside him and pulled him into her arms, careful to avoid contact with his bandaged arm. Tears spilled from her eyes as she embraced him. She heard Lucius and Harry enter the room, but didn't glance away from Draco. She had to look at him, to keep telling herself that he really was all right.

"Don't cry, Mother." He wiped away her tears with his good hand.

"What were you thinking, Draco?" she demanded.

He shook his head. "I wasn't. I'm so sorry. I never imagined this would land me in the hospital. I didn't mean to scare you or Harry. And I'm so sorry you had to come down here in the middle of the night."

"Where else would I be? I love you, Draco. And that scar on your arm never made me love you any less."

"I know. I'm sorry."

Draco looked over her shoulder. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Harry seated near the bed so he had to be looking at his father. She held him tighter, worried what his reaction to Lucius might be.

"I know you don't want to be here, Father," he said, "and I want to thank you for putting your feelings for me aside and taking care of Mother tonight. I'm sorry I put you in this position."

Once he finished speaking, he turned his attention back to her, smiling and wrapping his good arm about her. Clearly, he wasn't expecting a response from Lucius and he didn't get one. Narcissa couldn't tear her eyes away from Draco to see how Lucius took the comments.

The door flew opened and Hermione came in with two vials. As she approached the bed, Narcissa feared she'd be asked to move, but Hermione only smiled at her, seemingly aware of her need to be close to Draco.

"Welcome back," she said to Draco.

"Thanks."

She uncorked the vials and handed them to him. He drank without question or complaint; a sign that he too had grown to trust Hermione.

"How are you feeling?"

"Okay. Tired."

"How's the pain?"

"It's getting better."

"Good. How's your level of idiocy?"

Narcissa was surprised by the comment, but forced herself not to defend her son. After all, Hermione was right. His actions had been idiotic.

"Lowered," he replied, without missing a beat.

"Good because you scared everyone who loves you tonight, Draco. I sincerely hope you won't be doing it again."

"I won't."

"Brilliant. Then I won't have to kill you for breaking my best friend's heart."

Draco chuckled. "That's the last thing I want to do, Hermione," he assured her, glancing towards Harry.

"Good call. So you're sticking around for the night, which is mostly over anyway. We just need to make sure there are no negative effects. We don't really know what to expect. No one's attempted this before."

"At least, I'm original."

"Draco," Narcissa scolded.

"I'll be back to check on you later," Hermione promised, shaking her head as she left the room.

"Narcissa, Harry, I'd like to speak with my son alone," Lucius said, moving closer to Draco.

"Like hell," Harry cried, glaring at him. "You've treated Draco horribly for weeks. Why should we leave you alone with him now?"

Cringing, Narcissa turned to her husband. He didn't even look angry, only sad. They both knew Harry's outburst wasn't unwarranted.

"It's okay, Harry," Draco spoke up. "I'm fine. I want to talk to him."

"But-"

"He's my father, Harry."

"I'll be right outside," Harry mumbled, getting to his feet.

"I don't doubt it. Take care of Mother."

She almost informed him that she didn't need a baby-sitter, but decided to let it go. Draco and Lucius needed to talk and she'd like a chance to get to know Harry better. No point starting an argument when she was getting what she wanted.

She left the room with Harry, giving Lucius' hand an encouraging squeeze on the way by.


	55. The Harry Talk

_I can't believe you love me  
I never thought you'd come  
I guess I misjudged love  
Between a father and his son_

_Things we never said come together  
The hidden truth no longer haunting me  
Tonight we touched on the things that were never spoken  
That kind of understanding sets me free_

_The Last Song ~ Elton John_

As the door closed behind his mother and lover, Draco turned to his father. Lucius settled into the chair Harry vacated before looking at him. His expression was annoyingly unreadable.

"Does it hurt much?" Lucius asked, nodding towards Draco's bandaged arm.

"It's painful."

"Good. Maybe that'll stop you from doing something so ridiculous in the future." Lucius' voice was calm and he stared at the bandage rather than meeting his son's eyes.

The words stung, but Draco knew he shouldn't be surprised. His father made it clear that he no longer wanted anything to do with him. He was there for Narcissa and he wanted to make sure Draco didn't endanger his mother's health again.

"Father, I'm truly sorry for putting Mother at risk. I assure you, it won't happen again. I'm very grateful you've been able to set aside your feelings for me and support her."

Lucius finally met his eyes and Draco nearly gasped. His father's eyes were brimming with tears. Draco could count the number of times he'd seen his father cry on his left hand. He was horrified. What had he said so wrong? Had something happened with him mother that he didn't know about yet?

"Stop saying that, Draco. Of course, I wanted to be with Narcissa tonight. She's ill and she was very worried. But you're my son, Draco. I'd have come without your mother. I love you, son, even if I haven't shown it lately. I was terrified tonight. I don't know what I'd do if I lost you."

Draco stared into his father's eyes, slowly comprehending his words. A smile touched his lips when he grasped their meaning.

"You still love me?"

Lucius closed his eyes briefly before replying, "Of course, I do, Draco. I'll always love you and I'm sorry I made you doubt that."

It was Draco who broke eye contact. His father's words made him feel so much lighter, so much better, but he knew their issues still needed to be addressed. His father refused to speak to him for a reason and that reason wasn't going away. As much as he hated to say it, Draco knew he had no choice.

"What about Harry?" he asked, studying the thin blanket covering his body. "I love you, Father, but I love him, too. I can't give him up, not even for you."

To Draco's surprise, Lucius laughed. He looked over to see his father shaking his head.

"I should hope not, Draco. I may have been an arse, but I've also been paying attention. You're devoted to him. You want to be with him. And he's good for you. I've seen only positive changes in you since this relationship began. And tonight I got to see Harry's devotion to you, too. He came here as quickly as Narcissa and I. He was as scared as we were. He sat with you, making sure you were all right, even though you brought this on yourself. Only your mother has ever done that for me. You're both in love. I can see that. You shouldn't give that up for anyone."

Draco didn't respond. He didn't know how.

"I'm sorry, Draco," Lucius continued, seemingly unconcerned by his son's lack of response. "I treated you badly and I was wrong, especially now. Telling your mother and I about Harry wasn't easy for you and you're already dealing with Narcissa's illness. You needed me, and I wasn't there for you."

Again, Draco searched for words and failed to find any. The whole conversation felt like a dream. Was his father really saying these things to him?

"I'm going to tell you what I was thinking when you told me about Harry. The thought of disowning you never occurred to me. It never will. You'll always be my son. You do understand that, right? Nothing will ever make me walk away from you."

"Yes." Draco even managed a smile to go along with his first word.

"Good. Now, when you told me about Harry, I was worried for you. You're not choosing an easy path, definitely not the path I'd have chosen for you. Same-sex relationships aren't readily accepted. And you have to think about who you are - who Harry is. The world already knows your names. When you do nothing, you appear in the Prophet. Rita Skeeter is going to harass the two of you until the day she dies."

"Likely," Draco agreed, "but she probably would've done that anyway. At least, now she'll have something truthful to say about us."

"There's still the public to think about. Many people won't take this well. You'll both be judged and sometimes even ostracized. That's not what I wanted for you."

Draco laughed. "Really, Father? It's a little late for both of us there. Most of the wizarding world already hates me. Harry's been judged since the day he was born. This isn't new for us. We can handle it together."

"I can see that now."

"I'm glad. And so you know, I don't plan to leave the Malfoy legacy without an heir. I know my options."

Lucius looked surprised. "The thought occurred to me."

"So," Draco sighed, "I suppose we need to discuss blood status. After all, it's unheard of for a Malfoy to be with a half-blood, male or female."

Grunting, Lucius shook his head. "Do you honestly think I've learned nothing over these last years, Draco?"

"I don't know what you mean."

"Draco, when our family lost standing with the Dark Lord, it wasn't our pureblood friends who helped us. They turned away the instant we had nothing to give. We're alive and free today because of your Harry. The only reason your mother is receiving medical treatment is because Hermione Granger is willing to give it. I've learned a lot from those two, but don't tell them that. I still have some pride."

Draco smirked at that, but remained silent.

"If the Malfoy and Black families hadn't clung to ancient beliefs about blood purity, Narcissa and Andromeda never would've been estranged. Narcissa would be getting transfusions. She's going to die because of those beliefs."

Taking a deep breath, Lucius studied Draco. His grey eyes seemed to bore into the boy.

"And there are the ways my beliefs have affected you. I followed the Dark Lord without question and it landed me in Azkaban, but you paid a price, too. You were Marked and given an impossible task because of my failure. The night of the final battle, he wanted to leave you in that castle to die. You went through all of that because I was too stubborn to change."

"That wasn't your fault, Father."

"Yes, it was, but I have learned from it, Draco. I've finally been able to let those beliefs go. It's hard not to when I spend so much time in the company of Miss. Granger as she's the perfect example of why such reasoning is flawed. So to answer your question: no, Harry's blood status isn't an issue for me. I'm actually pleased you'll be breaking that particular tradition. It hasn't served our family well."

"I never thought I'd hear you say that."

"Even I can change. Now, I've told you my concerns about this relationship, but I now believe you and Harry can face those challenges together. You're obviously very much in love. You both have my support. Although, if your boyfriend could stop glaring at me, as if he's planning my death, that would be appreciated."

"You're not ashamed of me, then?" Draco asked, ignoring Lucius' attempt at humor.

"No. I've never been ashamed of you."


	56. With Me

_Cause you're my child  
You're my chosen  
You are loved  
You are loved_

_And I will restore_  
_All that was broken_  
_You are loved_  
_You are loved_

_And just like the seasons change_  
_Winter into spring_  
_You're bringing new life to your family tree now_  
_Yes you are_  
_You are_

_No, this will be your legacy_  
_This will be your destiny_  
_Yesterday did not define you_  
_No, this will be your legacy_  
_This will be your meant to be_  
_I can break the chains that bind you_

_Family Tree ~ Matthew West_

In the waiting area, Hermione was seated on George's lap when Harry and Narcissa came out of Draco's room, closing the door behind them. One glance told Hermione that all was not well. Harry looked murderous as he stomped over and sat across from them with his arms folded. With a worried glance towards the closed door, Narcissa seated herself beside Harry.

Raising her eyebrows, Hermione asked, "What are you two doing out here? I thought I'd have to use the Imperius Curse to get either of you out of that room."

George snorted, knowing just how likely it was that she'd ever use that curse.

"The Great Lucius Malfoy ordered us out," Harry spat.

"It wasn't that bad, Harry," Narcissa sighed. "He just wants to talk to Draco."

"Funny, he hasn't shown much interest in that lately. In fact, he's been treating Draco like rubbish."

Hermione watched the exchange wordlessly and was grateful George did the same. This wasn't the time for a joke. In a screwed-up way, this was Harry's version of meet the parents. She was curious to see how he and Narcissa dealt with each other, now that insults and wands were off limits.

"I'm aware of that, Harry. I do live with them. But they need to talk this out and Draco agreed."

Harry glared at her, but there was no real malice in his expression. Hermione grinned as she was reminded of the looks her mother gave her. Already they were acting like family.

"Well, Draco hasn't been making the best choices lately," Harry muttered.

"Lucius is his father."

"That doesn't give him the right to upset Draco when he's injured."

"He's not going to upset him. He's ready to make things right with his son. Lucius is…" She seemed to be searching for the best word to describe her husband. Hermione had to admit, she couldn't think of a good adjective for Lucius Malfoy either.

"An arse?" Harry offered with a smirk worthy of any of the Malfoys.

To Hermione's surprise, and Harry's too, judging from the look on his face, Narcissa laughed. After spending years of his life feuding with this family, it appeared Harry just might become a part of it, assuming he refrained from murdering Lucius, of course.

"Yes, Harry, he can be that. And I suspect you'll see that side of him more often than you'd like until he really gets used to you and Draco. I know he's been cruel to Draco about this. We've fought over it, too. But Lucius does love him, Harry, and he loves Lucius. Tonight scared Lucius. He could've lost his son. He wants to fix things with Draco. I know you don't like it, but you need to let them do it."

"Does fixing things with Draco entail accepting me or convincing Draco to leave me, Mrs. Malfoy?"

Hermione watched as Narcissa's expression became one of understanding and concern. She couldn't believe Harry was handling Narcissa better than she'd handled Molly. If Ron was watching them from the great beyond, she knew he'd be laughing his arse off.

Narcissa took Harry's hand and met his gaze. "Harry, I wouldn't be supporting Lucius if he intended to come between you and Draco, not that I believe he could. I love my son, and he loves you. You should hear the way he talks about you. I haven't had a chance to tell you this, but I'm sure Draco has. You and Draco have my complete support. I'm happy for both of you. I know you don't trust Lucius, but I hope you can trust me. I'm on your side in this, Harry."

A smile spread across Harry's face and he pulled Narcissa into a hug. She hugged him back. Still the outside observer, Hermione was thrilled at the lack of awkwardness. If Harry and Narcissa had a positive relationship, it would make things easier for all of them.

"Thank you," Harry whispered.

When they pulled apart and slumped back into their own chairs, Narcissa grinned as she said, "And, Harry, I've been calling you by your first name all night. Please, I've already asked you this, do the same for me. I believe we'll be seeing a lot of each other from now on."

"All right, Narcissa," Harry replied.

"Oh yes, I almost forgot. I promised Lucius I'd suggest you call him dad, just in case you'd really like to annoy him."

She looked rather smug as Harry gaped at her in disbelief. Hermione and George both burst out laughing.

"Harry, if you ever do that, promise me you'll take a picture," George said between giggles.

"If I ever did that, I wouldn't live long enough to take a picture."

"Of course, you would," Narcissa assured him. "Lucius' snarl is far worse than his bite. I'll bet you two even grow to like each other in time."

"I'll take that bet," George declared and Hermione kicked him.

"That might be a little too optimistic, Narcissa," Harry replied, shaking his head. "I'd be happy to give and receive tolerance where your husband is concerned. If not for Draco, I'd go for complete indifference."

Smiling, Narcissa simply said, "We shall see."

No one had a chance to reply before the door to Draco's room opened and Lucius stepped out. Before anyone else realized what was going on, Harry bolted past Lucius to return to Draco's side and make certain no damage had been done.

"I don't think he trusts me," Lucius said with raised eyebrows as he sat beside Narcissa.

"He doesn't," she replied. "I defended you to him. Tell me I wasn't wrong to do it. Tell me you and Draco are all right."

"Of course, we are, Cissa," he replied, kissing her on the cheek. "What son doesn't enjoy hearing his father admit he was wrong? How could he not forgive me after that?"

"You told him that you'll accept Harry?" She eyed him intently as if looking for any signs of a lie.

"I did. I told him that he and Harry have my support and I meant it." He turned to Hermione. "He's going to drive me mad, isn't he?"

Hermione laughed. "Maybe."

"Well, he was perfectly sweet to me," Narcissa replied. "I even got a hug."

"Brilliant. The next time he gives me the death glare, I'll just hide behind you."

"Death glare?" George interrupted. "I've never seen Harry glare at anyone."

Lucius shrugged. "For some reason, he really doesn't like me. I can't imagine why. I never tried especially hard to kill him."

"Don't use that as a promotional point," Narcissa suggested. "I'd also stay clear to the topic of Dobby. I wonder whatever happened to that loony elf."

"He died," Hermione said, surprised by the coldness in her voice. "The night he Disapparated us from your home. Bellatrix threw her dagger. It killed him."

Narcissa's mouth formed an 'o' of surprise. "I'm sorry. I didn't know. He certainly was heroic that night. I'm sorry, Hermione. I didn't mean to bring it up."

"It's fine," Hermione told her. "I've already told you, I've come to terms with that night. Dobby saved us, but so did Draco. He knew who we were. If he'd identified us, we wouldn't have lived long enough for Dobby to help us."

"I knew it," Lucius said with a smirk. "I'd have kicked his arse at the time, but now I'm rather proud of him. Miss. Granger, it sounds like you've discussed this to some degree with Narcissa, but I'd like to apologize for my own actions. I'm very sorry I allowed you to be hurt in my home."

"Thank you, Mr. Malfoy, but you've already been forgiven."

George yawned loudly, reminding Hermione that is was the middle of the night.

"You should try to get some rest, Narcissa. Draco's fine now. I'll keep an eye on him, but we both know Harry will monitor him all night. The room next to him is vacant. You and Mr. Malfoy are welcome to it. I'll be taking over Umbridge's office for the night, if you need anything."

"Thank you, dear," Narcissa replied, getting to her feet with Lucius' help. "I'd like to lie down. Please, wake me, if anything happens with Draco."

"Of course. Don't worry. Just get some rest."

Once Narcissa and Lucius disappeared into the room, George tightened his grip on her.

"We know where everyone else is spending the night," he said. "What about me? Where will I be?"

"With me," she replied, turning to kiss him.


	57. The Morning After

_As I draw up my breath  
And silver fills my eyes  
I kiss her still  
For she will never rise  
On my weak body  
Lays her dying hand  
Through those meadows of Heaven  
Where we ran  
Like a thief in the night_

_For My Fallen Angel ~ My Dying Bride_

Feeling groggy, Draco reached out for Harry without opening his eyes. His hand closed around the familiar shoulder, but he was irritated to find fabric keeping him from touching flesh. Why the hell was Harry dressed?

When he opened his eyes in the cold, sterile hospital room, he knew the answer. Thanks to his foolishness, they'd spent the night in an unfamiliar bed, fully clothed. He knew he should be grateful Harry was even allowed to spend the night with him. That was likely Hermione's doing.

Pushing himself into a sitting position, Draco watched Harry. He was curled slightly, lying on his side. His unruly hair covered his eyes and most of his face, only his mouth, which was slightly agape, was visible. Draco smile. To him, Harry was perfection.

"I love you," he whispered, still thrilled they'd finally said the words.

He wanted to wake Harry, say the words so his lover could hear them. He wanted to touch him and apologize again for putting him through this. In the end, he let him sleep. He'd already deprived Harry of enough rest.

Glancing around the bare room, he wondered where his parents were. He liked to think they were home, sleeping in their own bed, but he knew better. Nothing less than the Imperious Curse would've gotten his mother out of the hospital without him, and even Lucius didn't have the balls to cast it on her. He was sure Hermione made them as comfortable as possible.

Beside him, Harry groaned, but didn't wake. He reached out until his hand brushed Draco's leg and then settled. The small, unconscious gesture made Draco feel unbelievably loved. Using his good arm, he rested his hand on Harry's.

Then he turned his attention to his injured arm. He felt a dull ache around the wound, but nothing more. Flexing his arm, he was thrilled to find that the pain didn't increase. Maybe he couldn't be fully healed, but they'd done a damn good job on him. Again, he suspected he had Hermione to thank. For the first time, he wished they'd been friends in school.

He was still moving his arm about when an inhuman scream filled the air. Draco had witnessed horrid torture, but never had he heard such a pain-filled sound. He trembled at the thought of what could've caused it.

Harry jumped up beside him, looking entirely confused. Once he remembered where he was and why, he turned to Draco, his green eyes filled with fear.

"What the hell was that?"

"Someone in a lot of pain," Draco replied, squeezing his hand.

"I'm going to check it out," Harry said, pulling his hand away and sliding out of the bed. "Stay here."

"Like hell," Draco replied, getting to his feet.

Harry sighed, running his hand through his thick hair, causing it to stand on end.

"Draco, you're injured. Get back in bed."

"I'm fine."

"You're fine when Hermione says you're fine."

"Shut it, Potter," Draco snarled, starting towards the door.

"So it's Potter now, is it?"

Stopping at the door, Draco held out his hand and waited for Harry to take it.

"Only when you piss me off, love," he replied with a smile.

"I like love better," Harry said as they stepped into the hall together.

Any teasing remark Draco could think of died when he found the source of the horrid sound. Lucius stood alone in the hall, drenched in blood. His body trembled and his eyes were unfocused. Draco knew the scream had been for his mother.

"Father?"

Still clasping Harry's hand, Draco approached his father. He wasn't even sure Lucius could hear him. He was reminded of the first time Narcissa collapsed.

He touched his father's shaking arm, but there was still no response. It was like touching a statue.

"Mr. Malfoy?" Harry tried.

Still nothing.

Draco looked around frantically. Why were these damned halls always deserted? The door to the room next to his stood open with a bloody handprint plastered to its surface. He felt ill as he realized his mother could be bleeding to death in that room. His hand tightened around Harry's.

"Draco?"

"She's in there," he said, nodding towards the door.

Gathering all his courage, he started towards the door, but Harry pulled him to a stop.

"I don't think you want to go in there, Draco. Let's find Hermione. She can help."

"She's my mother," Draco snapped. "I can't leave her in there alone."

Without letting go of Harry's hand, he started towards the door again. This time Harry didn't fight him, but allowed himself to be led. Lucius remained where he was, apparently unaware of Draco and Harry.

Stepping into the room, Draco let out an animalistic scream of his own. Narcissa lay in the center of a bed like the one he'd woken in, except the white sheets were soaked in red. Blood even pooled on the floor around the bed. Narcissa's eyes were closed and her skin paler than Draco had ever seen it. He couldn't be sure if she was alive, but he had to believe she was. The alternative was just too horrible.

"Mummy," he whispered.

Forgetting Harry was there, he dropped his hand and fell to the floor beside his mother's bed. Her blood coated his clothes, but he didn't even notice. He reached up to hold her cold hand as tears streamed down his face.

"Don't die, Mummy," he cried. "Please, don't die. I'm so sorry."

Strong hands took his shoulders and helped to steady him. Even in his panicked state, he recognized Harry's touch and took a certain amount of comfort from it. He wasn't alone.

"Draco, hun, I'm going to get Hermione, okay?" Harry's voice was strained, his own pain obvious. "She'll take care of your mum. You want to stay with her?"

Draco nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

The hands left his shoulders and he felt Harry's lips brush against his forehead. Then his Harry was gone. He was sitting alone on the floor beside what was likely to be his mother's death bed.

He raised her cold hand to his lips, kissing her softly. Tears fell freely and he did nothing to stop them.

"I'm so sorry," he repeated. "If I hadn't dragged you down here, none of this would be happening. You weren't well enough for that kind of stress. I never meant to hurt her. I love you so much. I'm so sorry. It's all my fault."

When he ran out of words, he lowered his head and sobbed.


	58. I Don't Want This

_You feel like a candle in a hurricane_

_Just like a picture with a broken frame_

_Alone and helpless, like you've lost your fight_

_But you'll be alright, you'll be alright  
'__Cause when push comes to shove_

_You taste what you're made of_

_You might bend 'til you break_

'_Cause it's all you can take_

_Stand ~ Rascal Flatts_

Andromeda strolled through St. Mungos with Teddy curled in her arms. For the most part, the hospital felt like a maze to her, but she knew where to find the children's ward. With a daughter like Nymphadora, she'd spent a lot of time there.

When she entered the hall with unicorns and dragons painted on the walls, she expected to meet Hermione, but a young red-haired witch greeted her with a smile. Teddy turned to look at her and giggled.

"Good morning, Mrs. Tonks," the witch said. "I know Teddy's appointment is with Hermione, but one of her patients is experiencing an emergency. I'm Susan Bones and I'd be happy to do Teddy's check-up or reschedule you with Hermione."

Andromeda bit her lower lip as she debated. She didn't know this girl and Hermione had always cared for Teddy in the past. More importantly, Teddy didn't know this girl. Yet he seemed to like her since he continued to stare at her. Maybe Susan Bones would be Teddy's first crush.

"Thank you, Miss. Bones," she replied, returning the smile. "If you have the time to see Teddy, it'd be much appreciated."

"Of course, I have time to see this little angel," Susan said, holding her hand out for Teddy to grab. He laughed as they touched. "Just follow me."

As they walked down the hall, Teddy continued to grip Susan's hand. Andromeda smiled at his unusual behavior. He even changed his purple hair to match her red.

"He's really taken to with you," she told Susan.

"Well, the feeling's mutual."

Susan led them into a small room. Most of the room was occupied by a large desk with a large chair behind it and two in front. It felt more like an office than an exam room.

Letting go of Teddy's hand, Susan settled behind the desk and motioned for Andromeda to sit across from her. She obliged, settling Teddy on her lap so he could continue to watch the object of his affections.

"So, Hermione has this scheduled as Teddy's regular check-up," Susan said. "Do you have any concerns, Mrs. Tonks? Is Teddy having any issues?"

She almost laughed at the last question. Teddy wasn't the one having issues. Nor was he one up at night contemplating the title of murderess. Unlike herself, Teddy seemed happy and healthy, blissfully oblivious to his grandmother's turmoil.

"Teddy's fine," she replied. "He reminds me more of his mother every day." She had no idea why she added that last piece of information.

"Maybe you'll grow-up to an Auror, just like your mummy, little man," Susan said to Teddy with a wide grin.

"Don't even joke about that." Andromeda shivered. "I want this one to pick a nice safe occupation. He can be a librarian, but with my luck, he'll want to be a dragon tamer."

Susan laughed.

"I'm sorry," Andromeda said, shaking her head. "I'm blubbering. You must have better things to do than listen to me."

"Actually, you're refreshing, Mrs. Tonks. I've been here since eight o'clock last night and a friendly face is more than welcome. I should be home in bed, but someone had to fill-in for Hermione. I suspect she's having a harder morning than I am."

"I hope her patient's all right. Poor Hermione would really struggle if she lost a patient. She's so sensitive."

Susan looked completely uncomfortable and started picking at her nails. Her face suddenly matched her hair.

"Well," she said brightly with a forced smile. "I should have a look at little Teddy."

Not sure what just happened or what she said wrong, Andromeda accepted the change of topic and handed Teddy over. Teddy went happily, without clinging to her like he normally did when strangers tried to take him.

Andromeda watched as Susan examined her grandson and did a few basic spells. The procedure was quick and when she finished, Susan gave Teddy a kiss on the cheek before returning him.

"Your beautiful grandson is in perfect health."

Teddy snuggled into Andromeda's chest and dropped into sleep. Apparently receiving his first kiss from a pretty girl was just too much excitement for him. Andromeda was looking forward to telling Harry about Teddy's _girlfriend._

Andromeda got to her feet and Susan followed suit.

"I'll walk you out," Susan offered.

Knowing the tired Healer wanted a slight break before her next patient, Andromeda nodded. The two walked down the hall without talking. Since Andromeda wished Hermione's patient a full recovery, Susan lost all interest in really talking to her. The reaction was odd, but Andromeda had enough on her mind without worrying about the mood swings of a virtual stranger.

As they left the children's ward, Andromeda forgot all about Susan. Her eyes landed on Hermione. The young girl stood in front of an exam room with an older Healer. She was dressed in a short skirt and her hair was wild. Both Healers were covered in blood and wore sad expressions. Susan certainly meant it when she said Hermione's patient had an emergency.

She was about to walk away when blonde hair caught her eye. She felt sick. It couldn't be. But she knew it was. The Malfoy hair was very distinctive and she'd recognize it anywhere. She was looking at the back of her brother-in-law's head.

Moving closer, she got a good view of her remaining family. Lucius was clearly near tears. He'd never looked so defeated, not even when he fell to his knees to beg for her mercy, which she'd cruelly denied him. Beside him, Draco sat with his head buried in Harry's chest and his hand clutched Lucius'. His shoulders shook and it was obvious he was sobbing. Harry was rubbing Draco's back, but the devastated expression on his face was heartbreaking. One of the Weasley boys sat a few seats down, looking saddened. Andromeda couldn't imagine why he was there, but at that moment, she really didn't care.

She moved closer still so she could hear Hermione's words. No one noticed her. Her family was too lost in the grief she'd caused to know she was there.

"We've s-slowed the b-bleeding," Hermione told the group, her voice cracking. She too was near tears. "Unfortunately, we can't s-stop it or r-revive her. The disease has thinned her blood. I'm sorry. She's bleeding out and we can't stop it." Tears streamed down Hermione's cheeks, but she ignored them. "Without a transfusion, she's going to bleed to death. I'm so sorry."

Lucius could no longer hold back his tears. Draco's sobs could now be heard throughout the room.

Guilt attacked her like a physical foe. She'd done this - all of it. The pain they felt was because of her. Narcissa's dire condition was her fault. How could she have done this to them? And in the name of her daughter. Harry was right. Dora wouldn't want any of this. Andromeda didn't want it either.

"They're talking about my sister," she said to Susan, wiping away her tears and holding Teddy tighter.

"I know."

"I'd like to have my blood tested now."


	59. She Is Loved

_Oh how we'd talk  
For hours upon end  
What I would give  
Just to do it again  
But you're lying there  
In this hospital bed  
Won't you open your eyes  
And let's talk once again_

_If you fly away tonight_  
_I want to tell you that I love you_  
_I hope that you can hear me_  
_I hope that you can feel me_  
_If you fly away tonight_  
_I want to tell you that I'm sorry_  
_That I never told you_  
_When we were face to face_

_Things Left Unsaid ~ Disciple_

Holding Draco in his arms, Harry stared at Hermione, silently pleading with her to take back the horrible words condemning Narcissa to death. But the pain on his friend's face was too raw - too real. There would be no take backs. His Draco was going to lose his mother.

"How long?" Lucius asked, his voice trembling.

"I'm sorry," Hermione repeated. Harry suspected he was the only one who could read her well enough to know how sorry she really was. "I don't know. As you're aware, her condition is rare and so little is known about it. I don't think it'll be long."

"Can we stay with her?" Lucius asked. "S-she shouldn't be alone."

"Yes, of course," Hermione replied. "But you need to know, she's not going to wake up. You won't get to talk to her. I'm sorry."

Draco buried his head closer to Harry. His body shook in Harry's arms and there was nothing he could do to help. He felt so hopeless - so useless.

"Draco," Hermione said, wiping away tears, "you need to know this isn't your fault. Your mother loved you. She wouldn't want you to blame yourself. We've all known this was coming. Last night didn't make Narcissa sicker. It just happened this way. That's all."

Harry could feel Draco's tears soaking his shirt. He didn't move to acknowledge Hermione.

"She's right," Harry whispered, running his hand over Draco's back. "Don't blame yourself for this, love. It's not your fault."

Draco's trembling turned to convulsions as he sobbed harder into Harry.

"I really am sorry," Hermione offered yet again. "I wish I could've done something more. I've grown to care for Narcissa." She sat beside George, taking his hand.

Closing his eyes, Harry rested his head on Draco's. His lover continued to tremble in his arms. He thought of the final battle, the risk Narcissa took to get to Draco. She loved her son with everything she had and Draco loved her the same way. He didn't know what Draco would do without her.

Harry heard rather than saw Lucius rise from his chair. When he opened his eyes, the normally intimidating wizard stood in front of him with the expression of a devastated child. Their eyes met for a second before Lucius focused on his son.

"Draco," he said in a gentle voice that Harry wouldn't have thought him incapable of producing. He laid a hand on Draco's shoulders. "Come, son. We need to be with Narcissa now."

Draco's body tensed at the thought of seeing his mother for the last time, but he responded to his father and started to move. Harry released him from his grip so he could leave with Lucius.

After only a few steps, Draco stopped and turned to Harry. Lucius followed suit. Ignoring the elder Malfoy, Harry stared into the pain-filled, tear-stained face of his lover. He tried to give Draco an encouraging nod, but had no idea how it appeared.

"Come with me," Draco said, holding out his hand.

Harry was shocked. At first, he could only stare. Draco wanted him by his said as he said a final goodbye to his beloved mother. The gesture spoke volumes for their new love, but Harry knew he couldn't oblige. This moment wasn't about him and Draco. It was about Draco and his family, a family Harry hadn't been welcomed into, at least, not entirely.

"I don't belong there, love," he said. "You need to be with your family now. I'll be here waiting."

Draco didn't move or lower his hand.

"You're my family, too, Harry."

Tears threatened to spill as he tried to think of an appropriate response. He wanted to take Draco's hand and offer what support he could, but it felt wrong. It felt disrespectful to Narcissa and Lucius.

"Draco's right," Lucius spoke taking a step closer to Harry. "You're a part of his family. He needs you now. I didn't respond well to your relationship and I'm sorry. I know what you mean to each other now. I'd like you to join us. And while I was slow accepting you, Narcissa was not. She loves that you make Draco happy. I know she'd be honored to have you with her."

The tears spilled as Harry stood and took Draco's hand. It was as if Lucius had read his mind and addressed each of his concerns with an elegance only a Malfoy could muster, giving him permission to join the family. Whatever happened between father and son the night before, Harry was now accepted.

Lucius walked into the room ahead of them. Draco leaned into Harry so that he was practically carrying him as they followed. Harry didn't mind. He wanted to give whatever support he could, even if it was just physical.

Once they were in the room, Harry looked to Narcissa and shivered. She hardly looked like the same woman he talked to the night before. She was so still. Her blonde hair fell limp beside her pale face. The only color came from blood trickling from her nose and mouth. The thought sickened him, but Harry had to admit, she already looked dead.

Lucius settled on the bed beside her. He wiped away the blood, but more soon appeared. He moved so he was cradling her and focused on keeping the blood wiped away. It was the only thing he could do for his wife.

With as much gentleness as he could manage, Harry led Draco towards the bed, still supporting the majority of his weight. Their steps were slow and tentative as if they were approaching danger.

But when they reached the bed, something changed in Draco. He suddenly seemed to realize this was his mother and she needed him. He sat on the opposite side of the bed from his father. He took her hand and lowered his head to her lap. With his other hand, he took Harry's, pulling him close.

"She'll feel us," he whispered. "She'll feel us and know that she's loved."


	60. Light in the Darkness

_As I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,  
I wear my crown of thorns and pull the knife out my chest.  
I keep searching for something that I never seem to find.  
But maybe I won't, because I left it all behind.  
Now I'm stuck with this, and that'll never change  
Always a part of me, until the very last day._

_Where to go from here? What road to travel on?_  
_I spent my whole life choosing, and I always chose wrong._  
_Will I try to have the will to be alive?_  
_Will I try because I've never seen the light?_  
_Blow it to the ground and it's now you see,_  
_You spent your whole life taking the best of me_

_Hear Me Now ~ Hollywood Undead_

When she was left alone with George, Hermione grabbed his hand and pulled him down the hall. He didn't resist or question her. He'd been there for her since she received the owl about Draco, being exactly what she needed.

They burst into Umbridge's office and she fell into his arms, allowing herself to sob. His arms encircled her, holding her tight as she cried into his chest. He muttered words of comfort, but asked no questions. He knew, and accepted, that she cared about Narcissa. She wasn't sure Ron would've been able to give her the same unconditional support.

"This shouldn't be happening," she cried. Her words were muffled because her head was buried in his embrace. "She doesn't deserve this. Her family doesn't deserve this. How the hell is Harry suppose to help Draco through this? Their relationship is so young. Neither of them ever gets to just be happy. And why the hell not?" She stopped babbling when uncontrollable sobs took her voice.

"Shh," George whispered. "Harry and Draco will be okay. They're always okay. Harry'll take care of him. They're both strong. They've had to be."

"Narcissa was strong, too," Hermione yelled. "So were Ron and Fred and Remus and Tonks and Sirius. We can only be strong for so long and then we're just dead."

"I'm sorry this is happening." George stroked her hair. She felt slight stabs of pain as he worked his fingers through her tangles, reminding her she hadn't combed her hair since before their disastrous dinner the night before.

"She was starting to feel like a friend," Hermione admitted. "I know that doesn't really make sense, but it's true. I liked her and now she's going to die. Harry was right. He said everyone he cares about dies. Well, it's everyone _we_ care about. You and Draco should get away while you still can."

"Hermione, that's ridiculous," George sounded stern. "You told Harry how stupid he was when he said things like that and you were right. You and Harry aren't grim reapers. You lost friends in a war, so did I. Those people died fighting for a better world. Ron died in a tragic revenge attempt. Narcissa's dying because of a disease. You're not responsible for any of those things. Tell me you understand that, Hermione."

Sighing, she pulled out of his arms and fell into the nearest chair. She hid her head in her hands. She was tired, light-headed, and miserable.

"Yeah, I know," she sighed. "It just feels like a conspiracy sometimes. No one deserves the amount of pain that's been heaped on all of us. It's like we're cursed."

George walked behind her and rubbed her shoulders. She could feel the tension decrease. His touch was worth more than all the healing potions in the world.

"We're not cursed, Hermione. None of us. If you and I were cursed, we wouldn't have found each other in the darkness. Same for Harry and Draco. And if Lucius was cursed, he'd have lost Narcissa before she forgave him. There are good things in our lives; we just have to see them though the bad."

Hermione wiped her eyes and turned to face him. "You sound like Dumbledore."

George chuckled. "Yeah, well, I did pay attention to him. He made some good points."

"Yes, he did. Thanks for listening to me rant. Thanks for just being here."

"There's nowhere else I'd rather be," George said, kissing her on the forehead.

"What about the store?" she asked, realizing she was keeping him from his livelihood.

"Verity will take care of it. It's fine. That's the last thing you need to worry about now."

"I need to worry about Draco, Lucius, and even Harry." She shivered at the thought of them just waiting for Narcissa to die. "I should go check on them, offer some of the lame words of comfort we learned in training."

When she got to her feet, she found her legs felt like rubber. Unsteadily, she walked towards the door. Soon George was beside her, helping her to stay strong.

As she stepped into the hall, she collided with Bulstrode. The older witch grumbled, but Hermione was more interested in the contents of her hands than her words.

"What's that for?" she asked, pointing towards needles and tubes that normally had no place in the magical world.

"Your favorite patient," Bulstrode told her with a rare, genuine smile. "Turns out Mrs. Malfoy is getting a transfusion after all."

Hermione stared, trying to make sense of the words.

"Andromeda? How did she even know?"

"She saw you talking to the family. Finally decided she wanted her sister to live."

Slowly the words became real to Hermione and a huge smile spread across her face. Without thinking, she pulled Bulstrode into an awkward hug, and then rushed towards Narcissa's room to share the news.

She burst into the room without knocking, wide grin still in place. Harry, Draco and Lucius were all seated on the bed with Narcissa. They turned to stare at her as if she'd gone mad. She was feeling so giddy and they all looked adorably confused. She couldn't stop herself; she giggled.

"Um…Hermione," Harry said. He looked at her with great concern, but refused to leave Draco to approach her.

"It's all right, Harry," she said between fits of laughter. "I haven't gone mad. I'm just really happy."

"Well, no one here is," Harry reminded her, sounding irritated. "So maybe you should take your unexplained good mood somewhere else."

"I can't. I have to tell you all, Andromeda consented to the transfusion. She's a match. She has to be. They're getting ready to do it."

Three pairs of eyes continued to stare at her as if she was nutters.

"That's impossible," Lucius finally said, clutching Narcissa closer. "She was adamant - so hateful. This can't be real."

"It's real," Hermione assured him.

"It's not too late?" Draco asked.

"Not as long as your mother's alive, Mr. Malfoy," Bulstrode told him stepping into the room. "We have no reason to believe that this transfusion won't save your mother's life and with subsequent transfusions she should make a full recovery."

"Holy hell."

"Thank Merlin."

"Wow."

Bulstrode grinned at the comments. "Well, I need to get this started. Mrs. Tonks will be along soon and we have to hurry. Mrs. Malfoy is only getting weaker. Miss. Granger, fetch some Blood Replenishing Potion. Mrs. Tonks is going to need it. The rest of you, out."

She started to sift through needles.

"I want to stay with my wife."

Bulstrode turned to him. "Mr. Malfoy, I understand your desire, but it's not practical. Time is of the essence here. I can either argue with you or save your wife. Your choice."

Without another word, Lucius, Draco and Harry left the room. Hermione followed behind them to get the potion.


	61. Family Reunion

_When it's family, you forgive them for they know not what they do  
When it's family, you accept them, 'cause you have no choice but to  
When it's family, they're a mirror of the worst and best in you  
And they always put you to the test  
And you always try to do your best  
And just pray for God to do the rest, when it's family_

_Some are preachers, some are gay_  
_Some are addicts, drunks and strays_  
_But not a one is turned away, when it's family_  
_Some are lucky, others ain't_  
_Some are fighters, others faint_  
_Winners, losers, sinners, saints, it's all family_

_Family ~ Dolly Parton_

After demonstrating an unsettling fascination with needles, Teddy fell asleep in Andromeda's arms once again. The blood test was strange for the pureblood witch, but she was hardly in the mood to pity herself. The only time she allowed herself to show emotion was when Susan verified that her blood was a match for Narcissa; then she permitted herself a single sigh of relief.

"I don't know how much your family told you about this procedure," Susan said as they walked quickly down the hall. "You need to know, this isn't a one-shot deal. I understand there are issues between you and your sister, but you'll be seeing each other until her treatment is complete. There's no point in you saving her today and then letting her die in the long run."

Andromeda was shocked by the young girl's bluntness and sharp tongue. Did everyone really think she was a monster? She felt her grip tightening on Teddy, but quickly loosened it. The last thing she needed was a crying baby, especially when she felt like crying herself.

"I plan to see this through," she said coldly. "If I was all right with my sister dying, I'd have walked out of here today. I'll do the transfusions for however long it takes. And my issues with Narcissa are between us."

"Good," Susan replied smoothly. Either she didn't notice Andromeda's coldness or she chose to ignore it. "Today's transfusion will be hard on you. You shouldn't use it to predict what's to come. The simple truth is Mrs. Malfoy is near death. It'll take a lot of your blood to bring her back. In the future, the procedure will be far less harsh."

"I understand."

As they drew near the room that hid Narcissa, Andromeda tensed. Her family was crowded outside the door looking anxious. With a tiny smile, she saw that they also looked hopeful again. After all this time of being a cruel bitch, she'd restored their hope. Maybe they'd be able to forgive her - someday - maybe not. It didn't matter. She deserved whatever they decided to dish out.

Susan surprised her by squeezing her hand. "You're doing the right thing," she whispered. "Don't be afraid of facing them. They know the gift you're giving them."

The kind words warmed Andromeda and helped her to keep moving forward. She was also pleased that friendly Susan was back. She didn't need to be reminded of the horrible way she'd treated her sister. That knowledge would haunt her for the rest of her life.

When they were only inches away, three tear-stained faces turned to her. She felt actual pain as her heart broke. They looked at her with such misery - misery she'd caused. She found facing Lucius and Draco too much to bear so she turned her focus to Harry. He managed a smile for her. Even when she was ripping his lover's heart apart, he'd always found love for her. Dora and Remus chose Teddy's godfather well. Harry truly knew how to love unconditionally.

"Thank you," he said softly.

She managed a weak smile for his words, but nothing more. She didn't deserve gratitude.

"Can you take care of him?" she asked, transferring Teddy's tiny, sleeping body into Harry's arms.

"Of course," Harry grinned at the sleeping infant. "We'll have lots of fun, won't we Teddy bear? You don't mind playing with me while Grandma helps Aunt Narcissa, now do you?"

Andromeda stepped away from Harry to follow Susan into the room when she was attacked. Her body tensed and it took her a second to realize that the arms around her were hugging her rather than trying to harm her. She could feel her nephew's tears falling on her neck as she awkwardly returned the embrace.

"Thank you," he whispered.

There was that phrase again. Someone else offering gratitude she didn't deserve.

"I don't hate you," Draco added.

At his last words, Andromeda didn't know if she should laugh or cry. She held her nephew closer, realizing how nice it was to feel connected to family she thought lost forever.

"I'm sorry, Draco," she whispered back. "I was wrong to let your family suffer, but I'm here now."

"Our family," he reminded her.

A hand closed around her shoulder. She expected to see Susan, trying to hurry her along, but her eyes met grey ones, brimming with tears.

"Thank you, Andromeda," Lucius said. "I'll never be able to repay you for this, but you'll have my eternal gratitude."

She struggled to think of a response for her brother-in-law, still in the comfort of Draco's arms. No words seemed appropriate and maybe none were necessary. Both she and Lucius had made mistakes. Maybe this moment was simply about starting over with the man her sister adored.

"Okay," Susan said, tugging on Andromeda until she stepped out of Draco's warm embrace. "Sorry you lot, but time isn't our friend here. Family reconciliation is just going to have to wait."

Susan ushered her into the room, shooting a warning glance at each of the bystanders. She actually looked pretty terrifying. In some ways, she reminded Andromeda of Hermione. It was easy to see how the two were such good friends.

When the door closed behind them, her eyes landed on Hermione. With the presence of the familiar witch and the kind reaction from her family, Andromeda found herself starting to relax. She watched as Hermione and an older Healer worked over a bed. The day's events were slowly catching up with her and she didn't give much thought to what the two Healers were doing.

Eventually, Hermione stepped back, giving Andromeda a clear view of the figure in the bed. She gasped at the sight of her sister. She was so white and so still. Andromeda felt ill as a horrible realization hit her. She was too late. Narcissa was already dead. She'd killed her sister.

"Cissy," she cried. Sobs escaped her and it took all her strength just to stay on her feet.

Hermione ran to her, wrapping her in a hug.

"It's okay," she said. "It's going to be fine, Andromeda. She's going to be all right. Narcissa's vitals are still decent and you're here now. Everything's going to be fine. I promise."


	62. Forgiveness and Acceptance

_'Cause we all make mistakes sometimes  
And we've all stepped across that line  
But nothing's sweeter than the day we find  
Forgiveness, forgiveness  
And we all stumble and we fall  
Bridges burn in the heat of it all  
But nothing's sweeter than the day,  
sweeter than the day we call  
out for forgiveness_

_Forgiveness, we all need, we all need, we all need forgiveness_  
_Forgiveness, we all need, we all need_

_Forgiveness ~ Tobymac (feat. Lecrae)_

Harry settled beside Draco, taking his hand. Teddy moved in his lap and started looking around with wide curious eyes. Just his luck, the infant would wake after only a couple of minutes. He said they'd have fun, but his version of fun involved Teddy napping until Andromeda returned. How was he supposed to entertain his godson in a hospital waiting room?

"'Arry," Teddy announced when he finally turned to see who's lap he was sitting on. "Where Grama?"

The obvious question that Harry hadn't bothered to think of a response for. Somehow the idea of explaining blood transfusions and family feuds to Teddy didn't appeal to him.

"Grandma's with her sister," he explained. "She's going to help her, and then she'll be back to take you home. Is that okay, Teddy bear?"

Teddy nodded, but it was unclear how much he understood. For about the millionth time, Harry wished he knew more about kids. When it came to his godson, he was flying blind. It wasn't a new sensation for him, but he still didn't like it. If only Remus and Tonks were there. It wasn't fair that Teddy had to grow-up without his parents.

Harry was pulled from his thoughts when he realized Draco and Teddy were engaged in a staring contest. The look on his boyfriend's face nearly caused him to burst into laughter. Draco's expression was filled with terror. The Slytherin bad boy, ex-Death Eater was terrified of his little cousin. Teddy, on the other hand, seemed to think Draco was a specimen worth studying.

"Hey, Teddy bear," Harry said, kissing the boy on the forehead. "That's Draco. He's your cousin and my very special friend."

"Hi, Teddy," Draco said with a smile.

"Teddy, can you say Draco?" Harry asked.

Looking back and forth between the two boys, Teddy seemed to debate the request. Finally, his eyes settled on the smiling blonde.

"Daco," he announced proudly.

Both boys laughed.

"That's really good, Teddy," Draco told him.

After looking at the blonde for another few seconds, Teddy held out his arms to Draco, bouncing slightly in Harry's lap.

"Daco, Daco," he sang.

Looking utterly confused, Draco turned to Harry for guidance. Again, Harry had an urge to laugh at him, but he pushed it away. Draco was even more clueless about kids than he was. It was fun seeing him out of his element.

"He wants you to hold him. He likes you."

Draco's eyes widened. "Can I?"

This time, Harry couldn't stop the laughter. On the other side of Draco, he could hear Lucius chuckling, too. Even George was trying to suppress a giggle, sitting across from them.

"I should hope so," Harry replied, squeezing his hand. "It's really not that hard."

"That's not what I meant." Draco displayed the trademark Malfoy glare. "Will Andromeda be upset? It's not like her issues with my family are resolved and we can't exactly afford to upset her."

The question surprised Harry. He never even considered Andromeda being annoyed, but he quickly dismissed the idea.

"She's saving your mum's life. She hugged you. I told her about us and she accepted it. That's pretty close to resolved in my book."

Draco looked from Harry to Teddy. There was an excitement in his eyes, revealing just how much he wanted to hold his baby cousin. Teddy was getting squirmy, not understanding why his demands for attention were being ignored.

"Go ahead," Harry encouraged. "If you don't, he's going to be bawling in a few seconds. Much like you, Teddy's not used to being ignored."

Disregarding Harry's jibe, Draco opened his arms to Teddy and then pulled him onto his lap. The infant cooed with delight, staring into Draco's eyes.

Feeling like a total sap, Harry wiped away the tears that threatened to flood from his eyes. His godson was in his Draco's arms and they looked so happy. He was finally sharing this part of his life with Draco.

"You're such a girl," Draco whispered with a smile.

A retort was on the tip of Harry's tongue, but he bit it back. After everything Draco had been through, Harry just wanted him to smile, even if it was at his expense.

Harry watched Draco bounce and play with Teddy. They both gasped when Teddy's red hair suddenly turned to a platinum blonde to match his cousin's. Little Teddy giggled at their reaction.

"Guess he really likes you," Harry said, shaking his head.

For a few more minutes, Teddy was content to play with Draco, but then his attention shifted to the elder Malfoy. He watched Lucius closely. He didn't seem frightened of the older wizard, but he was more wary of Lucius than he'd been of Draco. At least, that's what Harry thought until he reached out and tugged on a lock of Lucius' hair. His uncle whipped his head around to look at him.

"Teddy," Harry cried, jumping to his feet. Without realizing it, he reached for his wand as if he might have to defend his godson.

He was amazed when Lucius laughed and Teddy stared at him like he was mental.

"Merlin, Harry, do you really think I'm going to hex my great nephew?" Lucius asked, raising his eyebrows.

Harry was struck by just how much Draco resembled his father. He'd made the comparison before, but at that time he didn't plan to shag either of them.

Sitting down, on the very edge of his seat and tucking his wand away; he reminded himself that Lucius wasn't Draco and his reaction wasn't especially out of line.

"I wouldn't put it past you."

Oblivious to the tension he was causing, Teddy gave Lucius' hair another yank. He must've pulled harder because Lucius cringed, but showed no sign of anger.

"I see we have some trust issues to work through."

"Gee, I wonder why that is?"

"Please, don't answer your own question," Lucius said calmly as Draco glanced between his lover and his father. "I'm not interested in hearing my misdeeds listed. Needless to say, they're plentiful. Be that as it may, I'm still Draco's father so you're stuck with me. I know it'll take time for me to earn your trust and forgiveness, but for Draco's sake, I hope you'll let me try."

The speech surprised Harry. He'd been gearing up for a row. He was never sure what to expect from Lucius Malfoy, but this wasn't it. From his seat, Draco looked at him with pleading eyes. How could he deny his Draco?

"I forgive you, Lucius, but keep in my mind my forgiveness won't come as easily if you hurt Draco again. As for trust, we'll get there."

"Thank you," Draco and Lucius said together.

As if trying to put an end to the serious conversation, Teddy grabbed Lucius' hair again. He seemed particularly fascinated with his new toy.

"Teddy, stop pulling your uncle's hair," Harry scolded in a laughing voice. "He's Uncle Lucius, not something to play with." Both Draco and George laughed, but he ignored them. "Come on, Teddy bear, can you say Uncle Lucius?"

Teddy gave the blonde hair another pull before saying, "Unk Usis."

"It's nice to meet you, Teddy," Lucius replied. "And don't you listen to that Harry. You can play with my hair all you want."

Apparently, Teddy understood the words because he cheered, clapped, and then motioned for Lucius to hold him. Harry couldn't help but wonder what Tonks would think of the scene. Knowing her, she'd be laughing at them. Maybe somewhere she was.

"May I?" Lucius asked Harry.

"Of course," he smirked, "you're his Unk Usis."

Lucius pulled Teddy onto his lap with far more ease than his son had demonstrated. Once Teddy found himself on the desired lap, he glanced at Lucius' hair and then lay down and went to sleep. It might take Harry awhile to trust Lucius, but Teddy wasn't having any trouble.

He'd been asleep less than five minutes when Hermione and the other Healers came out of Narcissa's room. The other Healers walked past without a word, knowing this was Hermione's show. Hermione eyed Teddy in Lucius' lap, but seemed to decide it was normal enough since she didn't comment.

"Now we wait," she said, sitting beside George and taking his hand.

"Can we go in with them?" Draco asked.

"Sorry. Bulstrode doesn't want anyone in there. She wants Andromeda to stay as relaxed as possible. She's going to lose a lot of blood. Don't worry, Draco. I'll keep a close eye on them."

"I know."

Conversation died quickly. There just wasn't much to say. As time passed, Lucius wasn't the only one with a bundle in his arms. Hermione curled in George's lap and Harry and Draco snuggled in each other's arms. The events from the morning and night before were taking their toll. They were all exhausted.

Harry was starting to doze in Draco's familiar embrace when a shrill voice brought him back to wakefulness.

"George, Hermione," Molly Weasley cried, rushing towards their group. "I've been looking all over for you two. Why are you wearing yesterday's clothes? What happened?"

Molly stood with her back to Harry so he couldn't see her expression, but he could picture it clearly. Her eyes would be wide and her mouth would be set in a thin line. It was her concerned mother face and Harry had seen it many times.

"Mum, we've been here all night," George replied, stifling a yawn. "Draco was injured last night and Hermione was called in. Now Narcissa Malfoy is receiving her first transfusion. It's been a long night. What are you doing here?"

George's summary of events was pretty lacking and Harry found himself pleased about it. He loved Molly Weasley, but she didn't need to know intimate details about the Malfoy's lives.

"I need to apologize to you both," Molly explained, ignoring the small audience behind her. "Arthur and I talked and I realized how unfair I was being. I'm so sorry." She wrapped both George and Hermione in a hug.

"I'll always love Ron," Hermione told her.

"We all will, dear, but you're right to move on. I just hope you can both forgive me."

"Of course," Hermione replied.

"Yeah, I guess so," George teased.

Molly hit him playfully and then turned her attention to Harry. Her stern glare caused him to sink into Draco.

"And you, Harry Potter. I haven't seen you in over a year. I find out about your life from Hermione. Harry, dear, this is unacceptable. You're part of our family and it's time we acted like it again."

Harry nodded, realizing he really did agree. Seeing Molly Weasley and being scolded by her brought back a lot of memories. This woman was the closest thing he ever had to a mother and he walked away from her.

"You're right," he said. "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize. Just start visiting again and bring Draco with you." She turned to Draco. "If you're with Harry, you're part of the family, too."

"Umm…thank you, Mrs. Weasley."

Without warning, Molly threw her arms around them both. Harry could feel Draco tense beside him, but it didn't take him long to relax. Even Draco was a sucker for a Molly Weasley hug.

"I mean it," she said sternly as she stepped back. "I expect to see you both very soon."

"You will," Harry promised.

"Draco, Lucius," she said, acknowledging Lucius' presence for the first time, "Narcissa will be in my thoughts. I'm glad to hear she's finally getting the treatment she needs and I hope she makes a speedy recovery."

"Thank you," Draco and Lucius said in unison.

With that Molly departed.

George chuckled. "And that would be my mother." He turned to Hermione. "Told you she'd come around."


	63. You Came Back

_Just one more moment, that's all that's needed.  
Like wounded soldiers in need of healing.  
Time to be honest, this time I'm pleading  
Please don't dwell on it, cause I didn't mean it._

_I can't believe I said I'd lay our love on the ground_  
_But it doesn't matter cause I've made it up forgive me now_  
_Everyday I spend away my soul's inside out_  
_Gotta be some way that I can make it up to you now, somehow._

_I'd Come for You ~ Nickelback_

With Hermione and the other Healers gone, the hospital room was eerily silent. Before leaving the elder Healer told Andromeda that her family wouldn't be permitted in the room. This was supposed to reduce her level of stress, which was just laughable. Anything, even arguing with Lucius, would be more calming than just sitting in that room with only her unconscious sister and foul tasting potion to keep her company. For the first time, she wanted her dysfunctional family by her side.

Closing her eyes, she rested her head against the uncomfortable chair and tried to forget where she was. She failed miserably. With her eyes closed, all she could see were images of her family. Narcissa, unconscious and bleeding. Lucius and Draco grief stricken and terrified. Even Harry, saddened and desperate to protect his lover. She was haunted by images of the pain she'd caused.

As tears came to her eyes her thoughts shifted to her most recent encounter with her victims. Despite her cruelty and reluctance, they were grateful to her. Draco even embraced her, recanting his previous declaration of hatred. Maybe she would be forgiven, but she wasn't at all sure she deserved to be.

When thoughts of her family became too much to take, she opened her eyes in search of something else to focus on. Like all hospital rooms, this one was bare and devoid of color. Even the curtains covering the single window were white. The only furniture in the room was the single bed Narcissa occupied and the chair she herself was seated in.

Unable to find a suitable distraction, Andromeda looked down at the needle protruding through her skin. The sight made her slightly nauseous. She could even see part of the needle beneath her flesh. Her eyes moved from the needle to the tube leading out of it, which did nothing to settle her stomach. She watched her own blood travel through the tube to Narcissa. The image felt surreal, but she knew the reality of it.

When the sight of the blood caused her to feel dizzy, she looked away and downed another vial of Blood Replenishing Potion. Hermione told her to drink the disgusting potion whenever she felt weak and she intended to follow the directions. If she passed out and they had to stop the transfusion, Narcissa would die. She wouldn't let that happen.

After sitting the empty vial aside, Andromeda was possessed with a strange urge to poke at the needle in her arm just to see if it hurt. She shook her head at the notion, not even glancing towards her arm. That was the foolish kind of think Dora would do.

Of course, she knew where the stupid urge came from. If she was poking at her arm, she wouldn't be looking at the one thing in the room she'd refused to even glance at since she first entered. She wouldn't have to face her sister.

But she was being ridiculous. At some point, she had to look over there, really see the damage she'd done. There was really no reason to put it off.

With a deep sigh, she raised her eyes to the figure in the bed. Like before, she noted how still and pale her sister was, but she was sure a slight hint of color was returning to Narcissa's face. There was blood beneath her nose and around her lips, but it was dry and caked. The bleeding must've stopped awhile ago. Idiotically enough, Andromeda was most struck by her sister's hair. The normally perfect locks fell around her looking dry and slightly matted. This was real proof of how ill her little sister was.

"You know, you really haven't been a good sister, Cissy," she sighed, "but you never deserved this." The familiar sting of tears came to her eyes. "I'm sorry, Cissy. I never should've let this happen, but I'm here now. I'm staying, Cissy. I'm going to help you get better."

Her words didn't cause any great cosmic reaction. Narcissa didn't wake and announce that all was forgiven. Still Andromeda felt better for having said the words. Her sister was a lot easier to talk to when she was unconscious.

Andromeda soon realized that after finding the courage to face Narcissa, she couldn't look away. While Narcissa slept, Andromeda studied her, really seeing her for the first time since they were both children. Her sister aged well. Even with her illness, she was still beautiful. It was possible Narcissa was more gorgeous as a woman than she'd been as a teenage girl and that was saying something.

Andromeda was still watching her when her deep, blue eyes fluttered open. Narcissa was clearly groggy, but their eyes met and they were forced to acknowledge each other. Searching her mind, Andromeda tried to think of something to say. Now that her sister was awake, talking to her was difficult again. It was Narcissa who spoke.

"Dromeda," she said in a raspy voice. "You left me," she smiled slightly, "but you came back."

Before Andromeda could even begin contemplating a response, Narcissa closed her eyes and returned to sleep.


	64. Sisters

_Things can be broken down  
In this world of ours  
You don't have to be a famous person  
Just to make your mark  
A mother can be an inspiration  
To her little son  
Change his thoughts, his mind, his life,  
Just with her gentle hum  
So different, yet so the same  
Two sisters only have their parents to blame  
It's rare that two can get along  
But when they do, they're inseparable  
Such a blessing comes to few_

_Different People ~ No Doubt_

When Narcissa opened her eyes, she found herself staring at a plain white wall. It didn't take her long to realize where she was, but when she awoke in the hospital, she was used to having Hermione there to greet her. She was also used to waking up in agony. It appeared that this time she woke of her own accord.

Her mind was fuzzy and she couldn't place the events leading up to her hospitalization. The last thing she remembered was learning Draco was okay and going to sleep with Lucius in a hospital room, but somehow she was certain she wasn't simply waking in that room the following morning. Lucius' warm body wasn't next to her and he'd never leave her. There was also an unexplained pinch in her right arm, which she was hesitant to investigate. Instead, she continued staring at the wall, staying perfectly still so as not to alert anyone who might be in the room that she was awake.

Her mind wandered and she remembered a strange dream she'd had. She'd been with Andromeda, talking about her coming back. She almost laughed at the thought and then she almost cried. Andromeda made it clear that she wasn't coming back and because of that Narcissa would soon die in a bed just like this one.

Still feeling weak and confused, Narcissa didn't want to think about her sister or her own quickly approaching death. The only way to avoid those thoughts was to investigate her current situation. With a deep breath, she rolled over to look at her arm.

The sight caused her stomach to lurch. She was suddenly glad she couldn't remember the last time she ate. A needle was sticking into her flesh with an attached tube, rushing blood into her body. Her eyes followed the tube until she found it attached to someone else.

Their eyes met and she gasped. Slowly she grasped what was happening and tears of gratitude came to her eyes. It hadn't been a dream. Andromeda really came back for her. She was receiving the blood transfusions that would save her life.

"T-thank you," she choked, wiping away a few escaped tears.

"Er…you're welcome," Andromeda replied. She was clearly uncomfortable, but didn't seem angry or hateful.

"I'm a little fuzzy. Can you tell me what happened?"

Andromeda looked away. "You almost died, Cissy. I almost let you die."

The words shocked her, sending a chill through her body. She'd never been in denial about her death, not like Lucius and Draco. She knew it was coming, but not so soon. If Andromeda hadn't changed her mind, she would be dead now.

"Thank you," she said again. "I owe you my life."

"Stop thanking me," Andromeda snapped, meeting her eyes again. "Why does everyone want to thank me? Weren't you listening? It was almost too late. I almost let you die."

"But you didn't. I'm alive because of you."

"I should've done this in the beginning. I'm so sorry, Cissy."

Despite the severity of the conversation, Narcissa couldn't stop herself from smiling.

"What could you possibly find to smile about?" Andromeda demanded.

"You're calling me Cissy again. I never thought it would happen."

"You called me Dromeda first." She smirked. "Unless you count my rambling while you were unconscious, which I don't."

"Did I? I didn't know how much of that memory was real. May I continue to call you that?"

"You can call me anything you want. How are you feeling?"

"Vampire-like," Narcissa admitted, still a little disturbed that she was draining her sister's blood.

"Really, Cissy."

The expression on Andromeda's face told her that her sister was genuinely concerned. She wanted a real answer and she certainly deserved one.

"A little tired, but good - better than I have in a long time. This really is going to save my life, Dromeda. It doesn't matter that you waited until the last minute; I'll always be grateful."

"I couldn't let you die, Cissy, no matter how mad I was at you. I still love you; I always have."

Narcissa stared into her sister's eyes, seeing her unspoken plea for forgiveness. Of course, she forgave her. Andromeda was her savior for Merlin's sake. But she was also her sister and as a sister there was something Narcissa had to know - something that had haunted her for her entire life.

"Why did you leave me?"

Andromeda studied her. "You said that before, when you first woke up. I'm sorry. I don't know what you mean."

"When we were children, you ran off and got married. I never heard from you again. We were so close. You were my best friend and you didn't even say goodbye."

The look on Andromeda's face was unreadable and she didn't speak. The silence frightened Narcissa. What if she'd gone too far asking about the past? If Andromeda left her again, she'd literally die. She was about to apologize for bringing it up when Andromeda finally spoke.

"Damn it," she sighed. "I should have said goodbye to you in person. I'm sorry, Cissy, but you need to know that I never meant to cut you out of my life. I wrote you every day for that first year. I missed you like crazy. When I never got a response, I thought you'd disowned me like the rest of our family. I was turning away from beliefs that were important to you. I'm so sorry. I never thought of you not receiving the letters."

It was Narcissa's turn to sit and stare. All the times she thought about her lost sister, she never considered this scenario, but it made perfect sense. Her parents disowned Andromeda instantly. Of course, they didn't want Narcissa talking to her so they took precautions to make sure it didn't happen. They must've pulled out all the stops to make certain Andromeda's owls couldn't even reach her at Hogwarts. Her parents had always been good at manipulation.

"No beliefs have ever been more important to me than my family," she replied. "If I'd received a single letter, I would've responded. I can't believe our parents and our foolish pride robbed us of all these years together."

Andromeda shook her head. "Well, I'm sure Lucius wouldn't have approved of me being in your life either."

"Even as his worst, Lucius loved me. He'd never have asked me to give you up, no matter how much it annoyed him."

Andromeda chuckled.

"You know I always loved you, too, right?" Narcissa asked. "I thought you stopped caring about me, but I could never stop caring about you. No matter how hard I tried."

"But I'm a blood-traitor."

"So is my son."

"You must've judged me, Cissy."

"Of course, I did. I was raised to believe that what you did was wrong. I married a man with those same beliefs. Pureblood prejudices were a big part of my life for a long time. I thought you were wrong, Dromeda. I even thought you were a disgrace, but I still loved you. And despite what you've said, I'd never have hurt your husband or daughter. Lucius' wouldn't have either. He wouldn't hurt me that way."

"I know, Cissy. I know you're not the reason my family's gone. I was just so angry. And your family stood by Voldemort - supported him. You supported Bellatrix. It was hard to forgive."

"We were wrong to follow the Dark Lord. We were following a madman in support of ideals that were wrong. I can't take that back. I can tell you that I regret it, that Lucius and Draco regret it, too. I can also tell you that after all this time, we've abandoned beliefs of pureblood supremacy. For what it's worth, we've changed. As for Bellatrix, yes, I welcomed her back into my life. She was my sister and I loved her. That was another mistake. My love for her died when she wanted my son to be proud of a suicide mission."

Andromeda was silent for a minute before she said, "It's worth a lot that you've changed."

Narcissa smiled. "So where does all this leave us?"

"It leaves us two sisters who've made some costly mistakes. But, I think, if you want to, we should leave the past where it belongs and move on. I want you back in my life, Cissy. Surely if Harry and Draco can let go of the past, we can too."

Narcissa was so surprised by the mention of her son's love life that she laughed. So that was why Andromeda hadn't questioned her comment about Draco being a blood-traitor. She had to admit, it was a good point. The things Draco and Harry had done to each other over the years were despicable and those were just the things she knew about. Now they were in love.

"You know about them, then?"

"Harry told me the same night Draco told you. They're unexpected, but they seem to be good for each other."

"I agree," Narcissa said, and then realized she'd steered the conversation away from the topic at hand. "And I want you back in my life, too. I never stopped missing you, Dromeda."

"I'd hug you, but I'm afraid of pulling these damn tubes out."

They both laughed and it felt like old times when they were both innocent children.


	65. Home

_It always seemed that I was sorry for the things that I did,  
But never did a thing about it 'til I let you in.  
It's kinda funny about the time that I was falling apart.  
You came and put me back together, now._

_'Cause what I want_  
_And what I need_  
_Has now become the same thing_  
_You've been offering._  
_As days go by,_  
_I've finally become what you want me to be._

_I still remember all the stupid things that I've said and done,_  
_But still, you stuck around with me when all your friends said, "Run!"_  
_Givin' me a name, I found myself inside all the flames._  
_Becoming everything for you again._

_What I Want ~ Daughtry (feat. Slash)_

Three Months Later

Harry groaned as a pillow hit him in the head and then buried himself beneath the blankets. For a second, he thought Hermione had barged into his room again, but quickly remembered the days of Hermione Apparating in unannounced were a thing of the past. She had to ring at the gate like everyone else, at least, while Harry was living at Malfoy Manor.

The blankets were ripped away, exposing his bare skin to the cool air. He groaned again and rolled over without opening his eyes.

"Move your arse," Draco said. "We're going to be late."

"I don't wanna."

"Harry."

Opening his eyes, Harry stared up at his beautiful Draco, fully clothed and looking extremely irritated.

Harry smiled. "How about you take those clothes off and join me?"

Smiling back, Draco sat on the edge of the bed, kissing Harry softly. He was purposely keeping his touch light so they didn't end up starting something they didn't have time to finish.

"Up," Draco insisted, moving out of Harry's reach. "Kingsley gave you the day off so we could be with Mother for her last transfusion, not so we could fuck all day. Now get dressed. Look at it this way, at least, the hospital is a lot more pleasant since Toadface got sacked." His words were scolding, but his voice was light and loving.

Harry snorted. "If I'd known it would be so easy to get her sacked, I'd have done it long ago. I thought she was just a bitch. I had no idea her attempt to deny your mother medical care was illegal. One rant with Kingsley and the bitch was gone."

"Probably didn't hurt that George and Susan kept sneaking her that potion." Draco laughed. "She had no idea why she was missing shifts. She was really starting to look rather mad."

Draco's laughter was contagious and Harry found himself giggling, too.

Of course, his Draco was in a good mood. In a few short hours, his mother would receive a clean bill of health. After that he'd have Harry to himself for the rest of the day. Honestly, despite wanting to go back to sleep, Harry was in a damn good mood, too.

As he pulled a jumper over his head, his hand brushed against the chain around his neck and he smiled. He still never removed it. It was a piece of Draco he always kept with him.

Dressing in a bedroom that was three times the size of his old flat still felt strange. He could feel Draco watching him as he pulled on trousers. That part didn't feel weird. There was no part of his life he felt uncomfortable sharing with Draco. They'd seen the best and worst in each other, now it was just a matter of the in-between.

Once he was fully dressed, strong hands grabbed him from behind and lips attacked his neck.

"If you keep this up, I'm just going to get undressed again," he warned, reaching behind him to touch Draco.

"I'm just trying to get you in a good mood."

"Narcissa's finally well. I have the whole day off to be with you. Draco, I'm already in a good mood."

Letting go of Harry and stepping back, Draco sighed. "You might need to be in a better mood for what I'm about to ask you."

With a sigh of his won, Harry turned to face his lover. He knew what this was about. Before the day was over, they were bound to talk about it. He was actually kind of glad Draco was getting it out of the way first thing.

"You want to stay," Harry said, saving Draco from having to admit it.

Nodding, he looked away. "I know this was only supposed to be temporary. You agreed to live here while Mother was ill, for her benefit and mine. I promised you that we'd get out own place once she was well and if you want, we still can. But you're right, I want to stay. Mother and Father want us to stay, too."

Draco stared at Harry, waiting for an answer, but he said nothing. Harry knew Draco and he knew there was more to be said. He'd wait to respond. He wanted to hear everything his boyfriend had to say on the topic.

"We really are happy here. We have our own space. And I like being this close to my parents. Mother's not ready for us to leave. I still worry about Father. He's doing better, but he still has so much guilt from the war. You're good for him, you know. I knew you and Mother would get on well, but Father? Having your forgiveness and acceptance means a lot to him. At this point, he just enjoys your company. Not to mention, Aunt Dromeda's here all the time so it makes spending time with Teddy so easy."

When Draco stopped talking, Harry laughed. It wasn't the best response as Draco replied by crossing his arms and glaring.

"I'm sorry, love. You're just so cute."

Draco continued to glare, but Harry knew his next words would remove the unpleasant expression.

"Love," Harry said, taking his hand, "we can stay here as long as you want. You're right, we are happy here. I never thought I'd say this, but I've grown to enjoy your parents, even Lucius. And after everything that's happened over these last few years, I understand why you want to stay close to your family."

A wide smile spread across Draco's face and he threw his arms around Harry.

"You mean it? I thought for sure you'd want to leave."

"I want you to be happy."

"But are you happy?" Draco pulled back, staring into Harry's eyes.

"I've never been happier."


End file.
